Between the Lines
by poshsmit
Summary: Literati - SummerSeth. She had never anticipated that the utterance of love would produce such a powerful effect on her. But it lasted only an instant. Finished.
1. The Story Begins

A/N: I know I promised a sequel to The New Year, and one is in the works. This story, however, is a piece that came to me and seemed to write itself. It's set immediately after "The Countdown" and I will try to incorporate the new shows into future updates. This will probably be split into a few lengthy parts. Also, I am unfamiliar with California landmarks, and have twisted my same bit of knowledge to fit the story, so please bear with me!  
  
Again, it's literati. Fox owns The O.C. characters and Leo Tolstoy wrote Anna Karenina.  
  
Please read and review!  
  
********************  
  
Summer Roberts tucked a loose strand of her dark hair back into her neat updo. She always wore her hair in a tight bun at the hospital, even though she wasn't required to do so. It just seemed more professional to appear sleek and clean when she was there - she would have felt self-conscious with her hair down.  
  
The hospital was quiet this Friday night. She pushed the cart of donated books down the quiet halls, listening to the sound of the squeaky wheels. Summer had just added the Friday shift to her schedule, and the long-term care unit was glad to have her for a few more hours a week. She made excuses to Marissa, insisting that she needed to complete her community service hours for Harbor. This was a lie, of course. Summer already had worked more than double the amount of time required. She was hiding.  
  
She slowed her steps as she approached door #541. Mr. Feinberg was one of her favorites to visit. She knocked on the door hesitantly, and the older man smiled when he saw her framed in the doorway.  
  
"Summer!" Mr. Feinberg smiled broadly, and Summer couldn't suppress a small grin from sneaking across her lips. She pushed the cart into the room and sat down in the small chair next to the hospital bed.  
  
"Hi, Mr. Feinberg." Summer reached out for the cart and curled her fingers around the worn leather volume that he had requested. She liked reading to him because he always seemed to understand the deeper meanings of every novel. Mr. Feinberg liked to read his favorite passages aloud to her, a special ritual that she enjoyed. No one had ever read to her before.  
  
The white-haired man reached for his round wire-rim glasses on the bedside table, settling them over the bridge of his nose before winking at the young girl. "There we are." He leaned back into his pillows. "I have to have my glasses on when I have such a pretty visitor."  
  
Summer blushed and unconsciously raised a hair to her head to be sure her hair was still secure. She hadn't felt pretty in a long time.  
  
"You told me that you wanted to read Anna Karenina." Summer turned her attention to the book on her lap, opening the volume to the bookmark.  
  
"Ah!" Mr. Feinberg cried out, and Summer looked up, concerned. He smiled. "Don't be so worried, my dear. This is exciting! This is my favorite book. You know, most literary critics agree that Tolstoy was excellent at writing women."  
  
She smiled at him and shook her head. "Like any man could ever know," she retorted, and Mr. Feinberg guffawed. She opened the book. "Happy families- "  
  
"I don't think so, my dear." Mr. Feinberg interrupted. He waved his hand at her, motioning for her to hand him the book. "I'll be reading this one." She protested and he shook his head. "Nope, darling, I'm reading the whole thing. This is a book to dream to, and you, my dear, are in need of some good dreams. I've seen that sad look in your eyes."  
  
Summer knew better to argue with him; he was just as stubborn as she was. She acquiesced, handing him the book as he smiled about his victory. His voice rumbled as he began to read.  
  
"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way."  
  
Summer settled back into her chair and closed her eyes. Mr. Feinberg had lectured her many times about closing her eyes whenever someone read to her. He'd advised her to lose herself in the story, and although Summer was the queen of self-control, she enjoyed the escape.  
  
The lull of the words swept over her, and she saw the story come to life before her eyes. And suddenly, Summer was drowning in the story as the words became familiar to her. She saw the characters as versions of people from her own life, with herself at the center, playing the part of Kitty. Probably because she's a princess, Summer observed wryly. But that wasn't it at all. Kitty was young, beautiful, the center of a wealthy and powerful society, playing the part that was demanded of her. Just like I did, Summer noted. Beneath all the trappings, no one understood Kitty truly, and she seemed to prefer to remain unknown. Just like I do, Summer observed.  
  
Mr. Feinberg began to describe Levin, the simple, kind, honest man with curly hair. Seth, Summer's heart identified, and she breathed in deeply. The way Levin spoke with his nervous stutterings was painful familiar. She felt the way she had at midnight on New Year's Eve, lost and lonely and more afraid than she'd ever been in her life. She focused on Mr. Feinberg's words, searching for a way to understand her own life through the old novel.  
  
"But Levin was in love, and so it seemed to him that Kitty was so perfect in every respect that she was a creature far above everything earthly; and that he was a creature so low and so earthly that it could not even be conceived that other people and she herself could regard him as worthy of her."  
  
"Why?" Summer blushed at her interrupted. Her voice sounded strange after listening to Mr. Feinberg read for so long. Mr. Feinberg looked at her thoughtfully.  
  
"There's only one reason you'd ask me that question, my dear." He smiled softly. "Either you are a Levin, or you are a Kitty."  
  
Summer felt exposed. The errant strand of hair escaped from her head again, but this time she made no effort to tuck it away. She leaned forward to the older man, confessing. "Kitty."  
  
"And somewhere out there is a Levin." He nodded in understanding. He returned to the book, covering her hand with his own as he read.  
  
"After spending two months in Moscow in a state of enchantment, seeing Kitty almost every day in society, into which he went so as to meet her, he abruptly decided that it could not be, and went back to the country. Levin's conviction that it could not be was founded on the idea that in the eyes of her family he was a disadvantageous and worthless match for the charming Kitty, and that Kitty herself could not love him."  
  
"But why?" Summer's voice was more insistent now as she strained for answers. "Why wouldn't he try harder? Why would he just move on at the first obstacle?"  
  
Mr. Feinberg looked up from the text. "My dear," he said softly, "There is no evidence that Kitty loves Levin. So he believes himself to be unworthy of her." He read aloud again.  
  
"An ugly, good-natured man, as he considered himself, might, he supposed, be liked as a friend; but to be loved with such a love as that with which he loved Kitty, one would need to be a handsome and, still more, a distinguished man."  
  
"You see," Mr. Feinberg said, "Levin is on the outside of this wealthy society, but even he had fallen victim to its rules of courtship. Even if Kitty would have him, he believes that he is only worthy of being her friend. And so, he offers her his friendship."  
  
Summer recalled standing beside the Cohens' pool as Seth offered her his friendship. She felt a familiar chill run through her.  
  
"But love-" Summer stumbled over the word, and then regained her thought. "But love isn't like that. It doesn't abide by society's rules, or at least, it shouldn't. If he really, truly loves her, why doesn't he tell her? Isn't it worth the risk?" She asked the question aloud to Mr. Feinberg, and it resonated within her, and she asked herself the question, already knowing the answer. Isn't it worth the risk?  
  
Mr. Feinberg smiled and turned his attention back to the novel. "Levin agrees with you, my dear. It is worth the risk."  
  
He began to read again.  
  
"But after spending two months alone in the country, he was convinced that this was not one of those passions of which he had had experience in his early youth; that this feeling gave him not an instant's rest; that he could not live without deciding the question, would she or would she not be his wife, and that his despair had arisen only from his own imaginings, that he had no sort of proof that he would be rejected. And he had now come to Moscow with a firm determination to make an offer, and get married if he were accepted. Or...he could not conceive what would become of him if he were rejected."  
  
Mr. Feinberg closed the novel and looked up at Summer. Her eyes were closed and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. When she slowly opened her eyes, he noticed an unfamiliar glistening over her eyes. As if she felt it coming, she quickly wiped away a tear before it had the chance to travel down her cheek.  
  
"More next time?" Summer asked hopefully.  
  
Mr. Feinberg smiled with concern. "Of course."  
  
Summer nodded and slid the book back onto the cart, making her way out of the room.  
  
"Summer?"  
  
She turned at the sound of her name.  
  
"What you have to remember, my dear, is that what is important can't be said aloud." Mr. Feinberg looked at her thoughtfully, and spoke with a heaviness that grounded each word. "The very best things in life are communicated between the lines."  
  
Summer nodded and turned around, pushing her cart down the hallway towards the elevator. When the doors opened, she pulled the cart inside and leaned against one of the walls. She suddenly felt exhausted.  
  
********************  
  
Later that evening at home, Summer shifted in her bed. The thought of Seth Cohen haunted her at night, and she was having another one of her restless evenings. She glanced at her clock. 11:47. It was late, but not by Newport standards. She stretched out on her mattress, unsure of what to do. She couldn't sleep, and as usual, she was alone at her house. She recalled that Marissa was going to a concert with Chino, so calling her wasn't an option. Summer's skin prickled, and on impulse she stood up and began to dress. She pulled on an old pair of Seven jeans and a loose white oxford blouse. It wasn't normally her style, different than the brightly colored miniskirts she usually wore, but for some reason the white button down always made her feel comfortable. She slid her feet into a pair of sandals and ran out the door to her Lexus.  
  
Summer was already feeling silly as she arrived in Santa Monica. She'd been driving for some time and had ended up here. At least the stores are still open, she thought ruefully. The Third Street Promenade was hosting a Midnight Madness event, and the streets reverberated with loud musical beats. She made her way through the crowd, anxious to see the band playing.  
  
Rooney, she recognized. A band of boys with curly dark hair. Like she needed another reminder of Seth. She turned away from the stage, preparing to head into BCBG when she heard someone calling her name.  
  
She turned and smiled broadly. "Coop!" Summer squealed out in delight and hugged her friend. "I am so glad to see you! This is the concert you were going to?"  
  
"Yeah, they're good, don't you think?" Marissa smiled at her friend. "But you're not here for the band, are you?"  
  
Summer furrowed her brow quizzically. "Um, no, I'm here for the shopping." Marissa was still smiling. Summer put her hands on her hips. "Coop, what is up with you? I'm going shopping, it's not like that's a new thing for me."  
  
"Sure, you're just going shopping," Marissa teased, "You aren't here because-"  
  
"Hey, tall one! This isn't a Laker game, you can't just move upcourt-" Seth pushed his way through the crowd with Ryan and Anna. He stopped abruptly when he saw Summer standing beside her.  
  
Summer bit down on her lip and forced herself to breathe. Kitty would know what to do in this situation, she remembered from earlier, and she forced herself to smile brightly.  
  
"Hi guys!" Her voice faltered a bit when she noticed that Seth and Anna were holding hands, but she drew herself up to her full height and continued. "Wow, it's so funny to see you here. I was just popping into BCBG to pick up something for Tom Seekin's party."  
  
"Oh, you're going to that?" Marissa asked. "I thought you said that Newport parties weren't your thing anymore."  
  
Summer laughed and pushed her friend gently. "Whatever, Coop! You know that Tom is, like, the coolest, hottest guy at Harbor." Her eyes met Seth's for a minute and she forced herself to keep up her Valley Girl charade. She raised her eyebrows at Anna. "Are you guys going?" she asked pointedly.  
  
"We weren't really invited." Anna ran the toe of her shoe along the pavement as embarrassment crept over her face.  
  
"Aw, that's too bad." Summer tilted her head to one side, ignoring Marissa's nudge to be nicer. Before she could stop herself, she said, "You know, I'm sure you could come if you wanted. No one will even notice you."  
  
"Maybe we will." Seth stated bluntly. He stared at Summer and she felt her façade melting away. Before her emotions were completely apparent, she turned away, dragging Marissa into BCBG with her.  
  
"What was that all about?" Marissa hissed. "That was completely mean, even for you."  
  
"I know." Summer toyed with the hem of a cocktail dress in the store. "I just don't know how to act around him without being completely pathetic."  
  
"Well, you're going to have to figure it out." Marissa admired a silver skirt. "After all, we're all going to be at the party tomorrow."  
  
Summer groaned. She pulled at the cuffs of her white oxford, wondering how she could follow Mr. Feinberg's advice to read between the lines when she kept making the text unreadable. She pulled a few items at random into the dressing room with her, looking at herself in the mirror.  
  
Why didn't he want you, she asked herself. The hurt was even more acute when she remembered that he'd liked her for so long from afar. He didn't want the real you, a harsh voice told herself, he just wanted the fantasy.  
  
She slid a red dress over her head and looked at herself again. She looked more like Summer, the Queen Bee of Newport now, she thought with a sad smile. And if I can't be the real Summer, this will have to do. 


	2. The Garden and the Ice

Summer phoned the hospital early the next morning. She rarely called her patients there, but the words of the novel she and Mr. Feinberg were reading together had haunted her dreams.  
  
"Mr. Feinberg, it's Summer," she said after he answered with a sleepy greeting.  
  
"Summer, my dear, how are you?"  
  
"Good." She paused. "Well, actually not so good. I can't stop thinking about the book we're reading - Anna Karenina. Would you mind terribly if I read ahead a few chapters before I come to see you this afternoon?"  
  
"Of course not." He chucked. "Just don't go beyond chapter twenty-two."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Just promise me." His voice was serious. "It's my favorite part."  
  
She smiled and agreed. "See you at four o'clock."  
  
The two said goodbye and Summer hung up the phone. Quickly, she rifled through her closet. For some reason all of her clothes seemed too bright for her solemn mood. She chose a simple, dark green sundress that she hadn't worn in years, sliding it over her head before smoothing out the silk fabric. She grabbed a tiny clutch purse and headed out to her car.  
  
********************  
  
The Garden Bookstore was quiet this early on a Saturday, and Summer luxuriated in the warm sun with her book. The bookstore, true to its name, featured a large, secluded garden that was nearly empty. Summer had instinctively chosen a seat on a bench built into the side of a large tree. She felt protected there, a necessary emotion for losing herself in the text as Mr. Feinberg had instructed.  
  
She began chapter nine with a renewed sense of excitement. This was Levin's point of view. Unconsciously, she saw Seth in her mind's eye, and heard his voice in her head, as though her were reading the words aloud to her.  
  
She turned her attention to the text and began to read.  
  
"He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to himself-'You mustn't be excited, you must be calm. What's the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid,' he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found himself."  
  
She remembered Seth's nervousness, the way his eyes twitched as he recounted the remembrance of her with the mean squirrel. Was this how he felt that night beside the pool? She read on hungrily.  
  
"He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her. The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror."  
  
Summer's breath caught in her throat. Levin was all at once familiar and strange to her. She recognized all of his thoughts, having seen them before in Seth's eyes. But know, as she read the words, feeling the sentences take root in her mind, blossoming into understanding, she felt as though she knew him on a new level.  
  
"He felt as though the sun were coming near him. She was in a corner, and turning out her slender feet in their high boots with obvious timidity, she skated towards him. She skated a little uncertainly; taking her hands out of the little muff that hung on a cord, she held them ready for emergency, and looking towards Levin, whom she had recognized, she smiled at him, and at her own fears. She was more splendid that he had imagined her. But what always struck him in her as something unlooked for, was the expression of her eyes, soft, serene, and truthful, and above all, her smile, which always transported Levin to an enchanted world, where he felt himself softened and tender, as he remembered himself in some days of his early childhood."  
  
Summer gasped with a sharp intake of breath. Inexplicably, she felt her eyes glaze over with unfamiliar wetness. She pressed her fingers under each eye, holding the skin against her cheekbones. All the memories of her own childhood flooded her brain messily, as though someone had opened up a box of memories and thrown them into her conscious. Recollections of Seth Cohen floated before her. She recalled him watching her on the playground as she fed the squirrels, sharing a smile that no one else noticed. He was there as she stood before the class, shyly reciting her mermaid poem as she sneaked looks at him for his steady brown eyes and the guidance they offered. She saw him look down at her on Thanksgiving, smiling as her kissed her, holding her like she was perfect. She shook her head in an attempt to evaporate the memories, returning to the book.  
  
"He approached with timidity, but again her smile reassured him. She gave him her hand, and they set off side by side, going faster and faster, and the more rapidly they moved the more tightly she grasped his hand. 'With you I should soon learn; I somehow feel confidence in you,' she said to him. 'And I have confidence in myself when you are leaning on me,' he said, but was at once panic-stricken at what he had said, and blushed."  
  
"Summer?"  
  
She startled at the sound, looking up with a slightly dazed look upon her face to see Seth Cohen standing over her, a novel clenched in his hands. From another point of view, she realized, they would have looked like two lovers romantically meeting in the garden - she in a green silk dress, her hair gently curling; he framed by a spray of wild roses, tall and strong beside her petite frame.  
  
"Seth." She couldn't help it, her voice was softer than normal, and though her head cried out, no, no, no, her face and voice and heart were saying yes, yes, and asking him if he'd like to sit with her.  
  
Seth settled down and she looked him over. He was wearing a blue-checked oxford shirt with a t-shirt underneath. A few words of type were visible on the gray shirt, but the phrase was impossible to read. He shifted closer to her and his corduroy pants felt soft against her calf. She drew herself up and looked at him, her head tilted to one side.  
  
"I thought you only liked comic books, Cohen." Summer snarked, trying to put her armor back on before his presence affected her. She smirked a little. "You here for another Wonder Woman thrill or something?"  
  
"Yeah, because I knew you'd be here." Seth retorted. "Except, I didn't."  
  
"It's a free country." Summer snapped. "Besides, I'm just a Newport bimbo, so I couldn't like, possibly, be like, reading." Her sarcasm had the desired effect. Seth looked uncomfortable as he regretted his words. Instead of offering a retort or an apology, he reached for her book.  
  
Damn, damn, damn, she thought as goosebumps appeared on her arm when his hand brushed hers.  
  
"Anna Karenina," Seth noted. "Interesting choice."  
  
"I like it." Summer felt defensive about the novel, as though it revealed too much about her. She looked down and couldn't stop herself from adding, "Why are you even here, talking to me? Why aren't you with your Anna?"  
  
Seth caught her chin with his hand, trying to get her to look at him. She fought him stubbornly.  
  
If I look him in the eyes, she thought, it will be the end of me.  
  
He gave up and slid his novel into her lap.  
  
"Anna Karenina." She spoke the title of his book softy. Fate was cruel.  
  
"Summer."  
  
She looked down at the ground, the bench, up at the sky, anywhere but him.  
  
"Summer." Seth spoke with more force now, and she knew that he wasn't like the other boys, he was strong, he wouldn't tolerate her games. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands as she looked at him.  
  
She felt as though she was flying, and all the walls she'd built inside herself weren't tall enough to hold her in, to protect her from this boy she'd known her whole life. In his coffee eyes she saw herself reflected, soft and hazy yet still defined, as though his eyes were able to gloss over her faults and see only the good. It was romantic, to be sure, but it was also terrifying to know that he saw such an idealized version of herself.  
  
Summer pulled back. She gently set the books between them and stood before him. Like partners in a dance, he stood as well. She unbuttoned a few more buttons of his checkered shirt, and then spread the fabric across his chest to read the t-shirt beneath.  
  
"'Have you hugged my t-shirt today?'" Summer read slowly, and then she shook her head. It was so Seth.  
  
Seth.  
  
Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. His hands almost made a complete circle around her waist and he lifted her up to him as she slid up his body. She nestled her head by his neck, running her fingers through his soft dark hair. Remember, a voice from within spoke to her, and she tried to memorize every sensation she was feeling. He smelled like peppermint, and his arms folded around her as he hugged her tightly. Unknowingly, she gasped for air. Concerned he'd hurt her, he set her down, brushing her hair with his fingers.  
  
"Look, here's the thing." Seth twisted his hands. "I know that last night, it may have looked like me and Anna were together, but we're not."  
  
A smile flashed across Summer's face and she stepped toward him, placing both her hands on his chest and looking up at him.  
  
"Holy Captain Oats, you are so beautiful." He leaned towards her. "With you, I have everything, you're so perfect."  
  
Summer froze and stepped back. She hated that word. Don't cry, the voice said. Just be strong, keep it inside, get away from him and you'll be fine.  
  
She clenched her teeth. "I have to go." Summer moved back to the bench and picked up their books. "You wouldn't want to forget your Anna, would you?"  
  
She began walking quickly through the garden towards the parking lot. By the time she'd reached her car, she thought that she'd lost him. Suddenly, he appeared at her window. His confused face almost broke her heart. Almost.  
  
"Goodbye 'til tonight." The voice seemed not her own, not the cold brush- off she wanted to say. Seth nodded and stepped away from the car as Summer drove off. She saw him in her rearview mirror and felt empty. You're not perfect, the voice inside her reminded her. Better not to get hurt.  
  
Summer nodded her head resolutely and turned on the radio, trying to remember the character she'd created for her own protection.  
  
********************  
  
"'With you I should soon learn; I somehow feel confidence in you,' she said to him. 'And I have confidence in myself when you are leaning on me,' he said, but was at once panic-stricken at what he had said, and blushed."  
  
Summer leaned back onto her couch with her book. She had a few hours before going to the hospital, and she was determined to get to the mysterious chapter twenty-two before visiting Mr. Feinberg again. She liked to make him proud of her.  
  
"And indeed, no sooner had he uttered these words, when all at once, like the sun going behind a cloud, her face lost all its friendliness, and Levin detected the familiar change in her expression that denoted the working of thought; a crease showed on her smooth brow. "Is there anything troubling you?-though I've no right to ask such a question," he added hurriedly. "Oh, why so?.... No, I have nothing to trouble me," she responded coldly.  
  
Oh god, Summer thought, it's me. Her heart reached out for Levin, and she wanted to reach through the fiction and tell him what she knew to be fact - that Kitty loved him, she was just scared, scared by his expectation of her and society's expectations of her, two polar opposites that warred over her ever decision.  
  
"When Levin darted up to Kitty her face was no longer stern; her eyes looked at him with the same sincerity and friendliness, but Levin fancied that in her friendliness there was a certain note of deliberate composure. And he felt depressed."  
  
Summer read it, and she felt it to her very core. Hold it in, the voice had always reminded her. Don't let anyone too close, they'll just hurt you. It had worked, Summer admitted. For sixteen years, she hadn't let anymore get to know the real Summer, and she'd never gotten hurt. Before Seth Cohen, she'd always had fun - she would never have dreamed of crying over a boy. She'd let down her guard, and just like her inner voice had predicted, she'd gotten hurt. She still recalled seeing Seth and Anna holding hands the night before. The image made her sick.  
  
Focus, she told herself as she continued to read.  
  
"Are you going to stay in town long?" Kitty questioned him. "I don't know," he answered, not thinking of what he was saying. The thought that if he were held in check by her tone of quiet friendliness he would end by going back again without deciding anything came into his mind, and he resolved to make a struggle against it. "How is it you don't know?" "I don't know. It depends upon you," he said, and was immediately horror-stricken at his own words. Whether it was that she had heard his words, or that she did not want to hear them, she made a sort of stumble, twice struck out, and hurriedly skated away from him."  
  
Summer dazedly read the next few paragraphs as Levin arranged to visit Kitty's family. The words blurred before her eyes until a few sentences leapt out at her.  
  
"Levin was wondering what that change in Kitty's expression had meant, and alternately assuring himself that there was hope, and falling into despair, seeing clearly that his hopes were insane, and yet all the while he felt himself quite another man, utterly unlike what he had been before her smile and those words, "Good-bye till this evening."  
  
Summer saw Seth's conflicted, confusion expression as he stood beside her car. She heard herself utter the modern equivalent of Kitty's words: "Goodbye 'til tonight." And she breathed in deeply, feeling the air rise and fall within her chest, torn between the fear of losing Seth and the fear of letting him in. 


	3. The Refusal

A/N: Thank you all so much for the feedback. This chapter, more than any other, contains a good deal of text from Anna Karenina. Please don't be scared off by the large paragraphs, but it is essential to the story. This story has become much longer than I originally anticipated, and I hope you enjoy the two scenes of this section.  
  
********************  
  
"The young Princess Kitty Shtcherbatskaya was eighteen. It was the first winter that she had been out in the world. Her success in society had been greater than that of either of her elder sisters, and greater even than her mother had anticipated. To say nothing of the young men who danced at the Moscow balls being almost all in love with Kitty, two serious suitors had already this first winter made their appearance: Levin, and immediately after his departure, Count Vronsky."  
  
Summer listened to Mr. Feinberg eagerly. After her emotional afternoon (emotion, the voice within her sneered, is for the weak), she'd been looking forward to her visit with the older man. Granted, she'd hoped to have made more progress with Anna Karenina, but, she remembered with a grimace, her plans of reading all day had gone astray. After sobbing on the couch like the broken-hearted teenager girl she tried not to be, she'd spent hours looked through old yearbooks, photographs, cards, notes and gifts for some evidence that Seth Cohen was not worth this trouble. Unfortunately, she hadn't found a thing.  
  
She looked back over at Mr. Feinberg, not wanting him to notice her momentary distraction. He peered at her over the top of his glasses.  
  
"And now, my dear, we have the makings of a classic love triangle. We have Kitty, the guarded heroine; Levin, the honest romantic and Vronsky, the handsome noble." Mr. Feinberg winked at her. "But you're probably familiar with the dilemma of having two men in love with you at once."  
  
Summer gave him a lopsided, wry smile. "I wish. I'm much better acquainted with the other type of triangle - two girls, one guy."  
  
Mr. Feinberg gently covered her hand with his own. "Ah," he sighed, "love works in mysterious ways. As you'll see in this novel, just like in life, the formation of one triangle often begets another."  
  
The two sat in silence for a moment until Summer laughed and nudged him. "Don't tease me!" She gave a little pout. "Keep going!"  
  
As Mr. Feinberg began to read again, describing Kitty's parents and their ideas about her suitors, Summer's mind returned to what the older man had said. 'The formation of one triangle often begets another,' the little voice within her head reminded her. And with an almost electrical moment, Summer realized the truth of this statement. She'd been so focused on Seth and Anna that she'd missed the signals that other boys had sent her. Tom Seekin, she remembered, had invited her personally to his party tonight. She usually heard about these things from Holly, back when they were friends. He'd gone out of his way to make sure she was there, she realized, because he wanted her to be there.  
  
She smiled to herself. Hopefully Tom Seekin hadn't invited another girl, planning to keep Summer in a pool house and the other girl in a bedroom. Once was more than enough for that particular scenario.  
  
"Levin's appearance at the beginning of the winter, his frequent visits, and evident love for Kitty, had led to the first serious conversations between Kitty's parents as to her future, and to disputes between them. The prince was on Levin's side; he said he wished for nothing better for Kitty. The princess for her part, going round the question in the manner peculiar to women, maintained that Kitty was too young, that Levin had done nothing to prove that he had serious intentions, that Kitty felt no great attraction to him, and other side issues; but she did not state the principal point, which was that she looked for a better match for her daughter, and that Levin was not to her liking, and she did not understand him. When Levin had abruptly departed, the princess was delighted, and said to her husband triumphantly: "You see I was right." When Vronsky appeared on the scene, she was still more delighted, confirmed in her opinion that Kitty was to make not simply a good, but a brilliant match. In the mother's eyes there could be no comparison between Vronsky and Levin. She disliked in Levin his strange and uncompromising opinions and his shyness in society."  
  
Summer gave an unladylike snort. Mr. Feinberg looked up at her, startled.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just-" Summer gestured wildly. "The whole thing is ridiculous! I mean, it seems totally obvious that Levin is a good guy. Why isn't he the catch of society?"  
  
Mr. Feinberg considered the question. "I think that as open as Levin is, he's a very private person about his emotions - the same way that Kitty is. Levin is funny, and it seems obvious that he's in love with Kitty. But he's also extraordinarily shy beneath his veneer of humor." He turned back to the text.  
  
"Vronsky satisfied all the mother's desires. Very wealthy, clever, of aristocratic family, on the highroad to a brilliant career in the army and at court, and a fascinating man. Nothing better could be wished for. Vronsky openly flirted with Kitty at balls, danced with her, and came continually to the house, consequently there could be no doubt of the seriousness of his intentions."  
  
"So that's why." Summer spoke aloud as though she was talking to Mr. Feinberg, but the way she rounded out the words slowly made it obvious that she was talking to herself. "Even though she loves Levin, Kitty knows what to expect with Vronsky - he follows the protocol of society. He's the safe choice."  
  
Like Tom Seekin, the little voice within her head told her.  
  
Mr. Feinberg returned to the book and Summer felt herself getting dizzy. She could have written this section of the book. As the words unfolded, she felt them like pinpricks, a needling reminder of her own fears.  
  
"After dinner, and till the beginning of the evening, Kitty was feeling a sensation akin to the sensation of a young man before a battle. Her heat throbbed violently, and her thoughts would not rest on anything. She felt that this evening, when they would both meet for the first time, would be a turning point in her life. And she was continually picturing them to herself, at one moment each separately, and then both together. When she mused on the past, she dwelt with pleasure, with tenderness, on the memories of her relations with Levin. The memories of childhood and of Levin's friendship with her dead brother gave a special poetic charm to her relations with him. His love for her, of which she felt certain, was flattering and delightful to her; and it was pleasant for her to think of Levin. In her memories of Vronsky there always entered a certain element of awkwardness, though he was in the highest degree well-bred and at ease, as though there were some false note-not in Vronsky, he was very simple and nice, but in herself, while with Levin she felt perfectly simple and clear. But, on the other hand, directly she thought of the future with Vronsky, there arose before her a perspective of brilliant happiness; with Levin the future seemed misty. When she went upstairs to dress, and looked into the looking-glass, she noticed with joy that it was one of her good days, and that she was in complete possession of all her forces,-she needed this so for what lay before her: she was conscious of external composure and free grace in her movements. At half-past seven she had only just gone down into the drawing room, when the footman announced, 'Konstantin Dmitrievitch Levin.'"  
  
Summer was barely breathing, she was leaning forward to Mr. Feinberg as she urged him forward, faster, desperate for the words of what was to come. He silently handed the book to her, noting her eagerness, and she began to read to him, her voice breathless and choked with tears.  
  
"'So it is to be,' thought Kitty, and all the blood seemed to rush to her heart. She was horrified at her paleness, as she glanced into the looking- glass. At that moment she knew beyond doubt that he had come early on purpose to find her alone and to make her an offer. And only then for the first time the whole thing presented itself in a new, different aspect; only then she realized that the question did not affect her only- with whom she would be happy, and whom she loved-but that she would have that moment to wound a man whom she liked. And to wound him cruelly. What for? Because he, dear fellow, loved her, was in love with her."  
  
The words repeated themselves to her and she knew them to be true. Her hands shook. She felt as though she was reading a diary written by herself and Seth Cohen, a confessional that burned with truth. It shed a light on its surroundings, but it also threatened to consume those surroundings by destroying them with its wonderfully terrible heat.  
  
"But there was no help for it, so it must be, so it would have to be. "My God! shall I myself really have to say it to him?" she thought. "Can I tell him I don't love him? That will be a lie. What am I to say to him? That I love someone else? No, that's impossible. I'm going away, I'm going away." She had reached the door, when she heard his step. "No! it's not honest. What have I to be afraid of? I have done nothing wrong. What is to be, will be! I'll tell the truth. And with him one can't be ill at ease. Here he is," she said to herself, seeing his powerful, shy figure, with his shining eyes fixed on her. She looked straight into his face, as thought imploring him to spare her, and gave her hand. "It's not time yet; I think I'm too early," he said glancing round the empty drawing room. When he saw that his expectations were realized, that there was nothing to prevent him from speaking, his face became gloomy. "Oh, no," said Kitty, and sat down at the table. "But this was just what I wanted, to find you alone," be began, not sitting down, and not looking at her, so as not to lose courage. "Mamma will be down directly. She was very much tired.... Yesterday..." She talked on, not knowing what her lips were uttering, and not taking her supplicating and caressing eyes off him. He glanced at her; she blushed, and ceased speaking."  
  
Summer swallowed hard and licked her lips. Her whole body was covered in goosebumps. She wanted Kitty to be brave. She wanted to be brave herself.  
  
"'I told you I did not know whether I should be here long...that it depended on you..." She dropped her head lower and lower, not knowing herself what answer she should make to what was coming. "That it depended on you," he repeated. "I meant to say...I meant to say...I came for this...to be my wife!" he brought out, not knowing what he was saying; but feeling that the most terrible thing was said, he stopped short and looked at her... She was breathing heavily, not looking at him. She was feeling ecstasy. Her soul was flooded with happiness. She had never anticipated that the utterance of love would produce such a powerful effect on her. But it lasted only an instant."  
  
They were kissing by the pool. They were sleeping next to each other in Tijuana. They were having breakfast together. He held her in an alley as Ryan carried Marissa. They were sitting at a table outside the Harbor school as he asked her to the movies before the cheerleaders walked by and his face had dropped. She was kissing him on the yacht, telling him that she liked him while praying he wouldn't hear. She was at his house on Thanksgiving as he smiled down at her, telling her that it was finally happening. She saw Anna in the kitchen, her broken face mirroring her own. She heard Seth apologize to her, knowing that his words were true. She saw herself at the holiday party, looking down at Anna's comic book and wishing that she'd had the courage to offer something as personal. She saw herself kissing another boy on New Year's Eve, pretending without success that he was Seth Cohen. She saw Anna and Seth holding hands at the Rooney concert, realizing that they had spent the New Year together. She felt her heart break in the garden, she saw her tears, she saw all the weaknesses in herself pouring out, wanting him so desperately.  
  
She kept reading.  
  
"She remembered Vronsky. She lifted her clear, truthful eyes, and seeing his desperate face, she answered hastily: "That cannot be...forgive me." A moment ago, and how close she had been to him, of what importance in his life! And how aloof and remote from him she had become now! "It was bound to be so," he said, not looking at her. He bowed, and was meaning to retreat."  
  
She closed the book. Mr. Feinberg nodded at her, as though releasing her, and she made it to the bathroom before the tears began to flow as she was sick with the understanding of what must be done.  
  
********************  
  
I shouldn't have come alone, Summer chastised herself. She stood awkwardly in the doorframe of Tom Seekin's enviable mansion as she scanned the party for a familiar face.  
  
"Summer, hey." Tom Seekin loped an arm around her in an easy hug. He stepped back to admire her. "You look incredible."  
  
She smiled satisfactorily, feeling her confidence rise. She had outdone herself for the party. Ever since New Year's, she'd been dressing in plain, simple clothes, so she'd used the party tonight as an excuse to go all out. The classic style she'd adopted in the last few weeks had grown on her, and blended well with the remains of her daring fashion instincts. Tonight, Summer wore a poppy red cashmere tank top with a full chiffon skirt. Thank you, Prada, she thought as she saw Tom's approving glance. The outfit was conservative, but clung to her every curve, the wide scooped neck of the tank hinting at her enviable assets. Her hair hung down her back in loose, careless waves and she'd gone easy on the makeup, making her natural beauty all the more evident.  
  
"Would you like something to drink?" Tom offered his arm and she took it gracefully as he led her through the party. As he poured her a cranberry and seltzer, she felt the eyes of the Harbor gossip crowd watching them closely. As she smiled up at him, Summer felt confident for the first time in weeks. She knew how to act with a boy like Tom. "Hey, I saw you at the hospital the other day." Tom spoke suddenly. Summer looked up at him, surprised.  
  
"Really?" She tilted her head. "I didn't know that you volunteered there."  
  
"I don't."  
  
"Oh." Summer wasn't sure what had happened. "So, how's the football-"  
  
"It's my grandpa." Tom spoke quickly again. "He's there in long-term care, so I try to visit him once a week. I really should go more, it's just that I hate being in the hospital."  
  
"I love it." Summer licked her lips and took a sip of her drink. "I'm a candy-striper, officially, but I usually just end up reading with the patients. There's this one guy, I'm reading Anna Karenina with him and-"  
  
She saw Tom's eyes glazing over. He was a nice guy, but he possessed the typical teenage boy attention span. She shifted roles.  
  
"Anyway, it's cool." She smiled brightly, and spoke flirtatiously. "I just love the little uniform. There's something about the little nurse dress." She let her voice trail off. Tom's mouth was hanging open a bit. A little further, the voice within her told her, and you'll have him - you can go back to your old, comfortable life. "It's probably that short little skirt." She teased him casually. She'd had enough practice over the years. "I'll be right back."  
  
"Can't wait." Tom's eyes traveled over her again before she walked away slowly, knowing that he and everyone else at the party was watching her.  
  
There was no one else outside. The pool was still, lit from within by carefully placed lamps built into the pool walls. Summer walked slowly towards the edge of the gardens, breathing in the scent of gardenias.  
  
Before he said her name, she felt him standing beside her.  
  
She knew that Seth was there for one reason, to see her, to ask her about what had happened in another garden only hours before. There was talking to be done, there was much to be done.  
  
But at that moment they were quiet.  
  
He moved toward her and slipped an arm around her waist as he drew her towards her, his hands vibrating nervously. They were still for a moment as she looked up at his face and saw his determination. Their thoughts were identical.  
  
They moved towards each other with equal precision, their faces drawing closer. Their kisses before had been anxious and impulsive. This was slow and tremulous.  
  
Summer closed her eyes as Seth kissed her. He held her waist with one hand while he traced her cheek with his other palm. Her hand met behind his neck, tangling in his dark hair, drawing him closer. His lips were soft, yet firm enough to convey his newfound confidence. She felt him touch her reverently as he smiled through the kiss as though in disbelief.  
  
Their mouths parted for a moment and then met again. She moaned against him as his tongue traced her lips, then met her own as they curled together. Stop, the little voice inside her said, you have to stop this.  
  
She ignored it. They kissed again, his hand sliding to palm her bare upper back as her hands traveled under his blue oxford shirt. They traced circles on each others bare skin as his fingers seemed to burn marks into her skin. She almost wished he would leave a tiny scar on her, a reminder of the moment. She laid her hands on his chest and broke their kiss as she pushed him away gently.  
  
Seth reached for her again. She let him. He kissed her again, a long, slow, deep kiss that set her heart racing. Her hands were still on his chest and she felt his own heart beneath his thin shirt, it's allegro rhythm matching her own.  
  
He leaned his forehead on hers and met her eyes. "Summer, I-"  
  
"Don't say it." She took a few steps back, her hands up in a defensive block. If he didn't say it, she wouldn't have to lie.  
  
"Summer." His eyes were glossy as he took a step toward her, only to see her take another step back. "Please."  
  
Her jaw was fixed and she raised her head up to meet his gaze. Her hands were shaking as she struggled to regain her control.  
  
His shining eyes were fixed on her and she implored him to spare her. "Please, just go inside, leave me alone."  
  
"No." The forcefulness of his tone surprised both of them. She saw him swallow and he took three steps towards her. She stood still, frozen to the stop. Summer knew what was going to happen, she could feel the words hanging in the air, just waiting to be transformed into speech. And although she knew that these words would break her heart, she was fervently waiting to hear them spoken.  
  
His face was inches from hers as he whispered to her.  
  
"I told you that Anna and I aren't together. And I wouldn't be here at all, but I must tell you what I'm sure you know." He cupped her face in his hands and their eyes met. She was on the verge of crying, the victim of the sweetest torture in the world.  
  
"It depends on you." He echoed the sentiments of the book they each were reading. "I mean, I want to say, earlier, I meant to say." He paused, and breathed in. "I love you."  
  
Summer was breathing deeply, trying to focus on the world around them. The pool and the garden seemed to have disappeared and she could only feel Seth's hands on her face, his anxious eyes watching her reaction.  
  
She was breathing heavily, not looking at him. She was feeling ecstasy. Her soul was flooded with happiness. She had never anticipated that the utterance of love would produce such a powerful effect on her. But it lasted only an instant.  
  
Summer remembered all the tears she had cried, she recalled the heartbreak, she summoned up every negative memory as ammunition for her defenses.  
  
"This can't happen." She gasped as she looked at the grass. "I'm sorry."  
  
His hands dropped from her face and she felt him watching her for a moment. She kept her head down, refusing to look at him, knowing that if she did she'd never recover.  
  
"I should have known." His voice cracked and he retreated.  
  
She stood there for a few moments, waiting until he was gone. She knew he would leave the party. She breathed in the night air. It suddenly seemed colder outside, and she shivered.  
  
She looked up at the night sky and blinked quickly.  
  
She was alone again. 


	4. The Afterglow

Summer Roberts was exhausted. Somehow, she'd managed to put on her Valley Girl face and return to Tom's party, but the memory of kissing Seth by the pool was on a loop in her mind, rewinding itself to play again and again like a scene from a movie. An hour had passed, but she could still feel him beside her. Thankfully, she hadn't seen him inside, so she suspected that he'd left the party. Who could blame him, she thought bitterly, when it's just the same old Newport scene.  
  
Summer grabbed a bottle of Grey Goose vodka and lined up thirteen shot glasses.  
  
"Holly." She turned to her former friend with a wicked smile on her face. Holly hated vodka. "Wanna race?"  
  
The boys whooped as Holly nodded and slid in next to Summer. The game was familiar - each girl would work her way down the end of the line, trying to reach "lucky 7" and beat the other girl's six shots. Summer's eyes flashed angrily as she narrowed her gaze on Holly.  
  
"Ready. go!"  
  
Summer felt as though she were hanging above the room, watching herself. Using two hands, she downed one shot while picking up another. She threw the vodka back into her throat without tasting it. She didn't realize that the shots were empty until she picked up an empty glass.  
  
"Eight shots baby!" Tom picked her up and swung her around. "That's a new record!"  
  
Summer enjoyed the moment for a minute. All of her old friends were around her, cheering as though she'd actually accomplished something that had a purpose instead of just winning a drinking contest.  
  
Tom fell back onto the couch and pulled Summer on top of him. Her body instinctively stiffened, but she forced herself to stay still. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Holly's jealous expression, and Summer knew that dating Tom Seekin was a sure way back to her old, familiar life.  
  
Tom rolled over and pulled Summer alongside him. He's not a bad guy, she told herself. He turned out to the rest of the guests, throwing an arm around Summer's waist.  
  
"Hey, guys, remember the barbeque after middle school graduation?" Tom recalled.  
  
"Ohmigod!" Eve Kensington, a tall redhead, giggled. "We thought we were so cool. We were at that pool party at that kid's grandpa's house, what was his name?"  
  
"Caleb Nichol!" Ally Suthers, a pert blonde, slid down to the floor, her drink splashing across her Juicy Couture t-shirt. "He's like, so totally rich. Too bad that gold-digging opportunity is totally out."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Summer wrinkled her nose.  
  
"Ohmigod." Eve's voice hushed and Summer leaned forward. "Don't tell me you forgot about his freaky grandson, Sean."  
  
"Seth." The name slipped out before Summer could restrain herself.  
  
"Right, Seth!" Eve cawed. "He was like, totally obsessed with you, how pathetic. Do you remember when he came to your seventh birthday with that stupid toy horse?"  
  
"What?" Tom grinned and turned to her. "He bought you presents?"  
  
"He sure did." Ally gossiped. "But Summer was so harsh. She told him that a plastic horse was a reject gift and she didn't want him at the party - in front of everyone! It was totally awesome."  
  
Summer winced. She'd forgotten about the incident. She could forget it again, she decided, and picked up a half-empty bottle of rum. She raised it to her lips and chugged it down, drowning out the cheering of the teenagers around her, delighting in the painful burn as the liquid tore through her throat.  
  
********************  
  
Summer knew it was late. She stumbled outside to her car, meaning to get her cell phone and call for a cab.  
  
Her foot caught on one of the steps and she fell forward. She couldn't get her arms up in time, but miraculously, she didn't hit the ground. She felt someone's arms catch her waist and swing her back onto her feet.  
  
The world spun around her. It was difficult to make out shapes. But even in this state, she knew who had caught her.  
  
"Seth!" She tumbled backwards and sat down hard on one of the porch steps. "Seth is still here!" She slurred her words loudly.  
  
Seth looked up nervously. Tom, Holly, Ally, Eve and a group of water polo players were watching from the front door as he stood over Summer.  
  
"Speak of the loser." Holly giggled.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Ally said pointedly. "I thought you were so above the rest of Newport."  
  
"Guys." Tom's voice hushed them and he stepped outside to kneel over Summer, positioning himself next to Seth. Summer groaned and tried to stand.  
  
"I'm tired!" Summer announced drunkenly.  
  
"Ok, Sum, we're going to get you home." Seth watched as Tom spoke to Summer gently. A smile curved across her face as she leaned into him. She felt the vibrations of Tom's chest as he spoke to Seth.  
  
"Look, man, can you make sure that she gets home ok? I'm not really in a position to drive."  
  
"Sure." Seth nodded to Tom. "No problem."  
  
"Thanks." Tom slapped him on the back and headed inside with the rest of the party. Seth cradled Summer's head in his arms and lifted her up. As though on cue, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned against him, her eyes fluttering closed. He looked down at her and then quickly looked away, his eyes clouding over as he remembered. "This can't happen." He heard her voice whispering, and he held his head up and carried her to his car before he broke down.  
  
********************  
  
Summer's house was monstrous in the dark. The heavy drapes cast long shadows across the furniture, and the interior was only lit by the moonlight. Seth struggled with Summer, hoping that he was right about her room being on the second floor. Her keys dangled from his hand and she was limp against him, but she was breathing evenly.  
  
The first door at the top of the stairs was locked, so he moved sown to the next one. A note was taped to the door. "Summer - just in for a minute before your dad and I head off to Paris. Be back next month! Au revoir! ~ Sasha." Seth shook his head and pushed the door open, standing at the doorframe as he looked around the room.  
  
The room was surprisingly neat. A large bed with a fluffy white duvet dominated the room, and Seth carried Summer over to it, propping her head up on a mound of pillows. Her dark hair spilled across the fabric, contrasting with the pale linens. Her red chiffon skirt spread out across the bed, and her tanned arms slid down his as he arranged her on the mattress. Her eyes flickered open and she groggily pushed herself up. She blinked and looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  
  
"What time is it?" Her voice still had a sing-song, drunken tremor.  
  
Seth shoved his hands deep into his pockets and stole a glance at her nightstand clock. "It's 4:12."  
  
"Wow!" Summer threw herself backwards onto the pillows and kicked off her shoes. "That is so late! Are you going to get in trouble?"  
  
"I called my parents on the way here. They understand." Seth squirmed, hesitating at the door. He didn't know if he should leave her. As if reading his mind, Summer pushed herself forward and crawled towards the front of the bed on all fours, looking up at him. A strap of her tank top tumbled down a bare shoulder and her chest was barely covered by the remaining fabric.  
  
"Hi." She pulled herself up a little more so that she was standing on her knees, making them almost even in height. She leaned towards him and he involuntarily stepped forward to catch her. Her arms snaked around him and her fingers lid back into his hair. Summer fell backward, pulling Seth down on top of her.  
  
"Whoa there." Seth propped himself up on one elbow. "I don't think that this is a good-" But before he could finish his thought, Summer's lips were on his. She was warm and tasted of an unidentifiable spice. Before he could react, Summer pulled away and reached her arm out towards her bedside table. She pushed a book at him.  
  
"Read to me," she demanded.  
  
"Oh, so that's how it's going to be?" Seth tried not to smile. Damnit. He couldn't say no.  
  
Summer settled back into the pillows as Seth opened the book to the page marked with a red ribbon.  
  
"Chapter 14." He read aloud.  
  
Summer clapped her hands and snuggled into the pillows, curling her body around his. He held the book up so that the moonlight hit the pages.  
  
"But at that very moment the princess came in. There was a look of horror on her face when she saw them alone, and their disturbed faces. Levin bowed to her, and said nothing. Kitty did not speak nor lift her eyes. "Thank God, she has refused him," thought the mother, and her face lighted up with the habitual smile with which she greeted her guests on Thursdays. She sat down and began questioning Levin about his life in the country. He sat down again, waiting for other visitors to arrive, in order to retreat unnoticed. Five minutes later there came in a friend of Kitty's, married the preceding winter, Countess Nordston. She was a thin, sallow, sickly, and nervous woman, with brilliant black eyes. She was fond of Kitty, and her affection for her showed itself, as the affection of married women for girls always does, in the desire to make a match for Kitty after her own ideal of married happiness; she wanted her to marry Vronsky. Levin she had often met at the Shtcherbatskys' early in the winter, and she had always disliked him. Her invariable and favorite pursuit, when they met, consisted in making fun of him. "I do like it when he looks down at me from the height of his grandeur, or breaks off his learned conversation with me because I'm a fool, or is condescending to me. I like that so; to see him condescending! I am so glad he can't bear me," she used to say of him. She was right, for Levin actually could not bear her, and despised her for what she was proud of and regarded as a fine characteristic-her nervousness, her delicate contempt and indifference for everything coarse and earthly."  
  
Summer's eyes were closed, but Seth heard what she said. "He's just like you - he doesn't care about what anyone else thinks."  
  
Seth nodded and stroked her hair. She caught his hand in hers and looked at him with wide eyes. "I don't care either. I'm just too scared." She nodded her chin solemnly. "You already hurt me when you picked Anna the first time. If you hurt me again, everyone will know." Her eyes flickered close and her hand curled back into her body.  
  
Unsure of what to do, Seth turned back to the book.  
  
"The Countess Nordston began talking to Kitty. Awkward as it was for Levin to withdraw now, it would still have been easier for him to perpetrate this awkwardness than to remain all the evening and see Kitty, who glanced at him now and then and avoided his eyes. He was on the point of getting up, when the princess, noticing that he was silent, addressed him. "Shall you be long in Moscow? You're busy with the district council, though, aren't you, and can't be away for long?" "No, princess, I'm no longer a member of the council," he said. "I have come up for a few days." "There's something the matter with him," thought Countess Nordston, glancing at his stern, serious face. "He isn't in his old argumentative mood. But I'll draw him out. I do love making a fool of him before Kitty, and I'll do it.""  
  
Seth felt uncomfortable. Now that Summer had pointed out the similarities between himself and Levin, he could barely stand to read the words. He glanced down at Summer, and she looked up at him as though she felt him watching her.  
  
"Konstantin Dmitrievitch," she said to him, "do explain to me, please, what's the meaning of it. You know all about such things. At home in our village of Kaluga all the peasants and all the women have drunk up all they possessed, and now they can't pay us any rent. What's the meaning of that? You always praise the peasants so." At that instant another lady came into the room, and Levin got up. "Excuse me, countess, but I really know nothing about it, and can't tell you anything," he said, and looked round at the officer who came in behind the lady. "That must be Vronsky," thought Levin, and, to be sure of it, glanced at Kitty. She had already had time to look at Vronsky, and looked round at Levin. And simply from the look in her eyes, that grew unconsciously brighter, Levin knew that she loved that man, knew it as surely as if she had told him so in words. But what sort of a man was he? Now, whether for good or for ill, Levin could not choose but remain; he must find out what the man was like whom she loved."  
  
"There are people who, on meeting a successful rival, no matter in what, are at once disposed to turn their backs on everything good in him, and to see only what is bad. There are people, on the other hand, who desire above all to find in that lucky rival the qualities by which he has outstripped them, and seek with a throbbing ache at heart only what is good. Levin belonged to the second class. But he had no difficulty in finding what was good and attractive in Vronsky. It was apparent at the first glance. Vronsky was a squarely built, dark man, not very tall, with a good-humored, handsome, and exceedingly calm and resolute face. Everything about his face and figure, from his short-cropped black hair and freshly shaven chin down to his loosely fitting, brand-new uniform, was simple and at the same time elegant. Making way for the lady who had come in, Vronsky went up to the princess and then to Kitty. As he approached her, his beautiful eyes shone with a specially tender light, and with a faint, happy, and modestly triumphant smile (so it seemed to Levin), bowing carefully and respectfully over her, he held out his small broad hand to her. Greeting and saying a few words to everyone, he sat down without once glancing at Levin, who had never taken his eyes off him."  
  
"That's Tom." Summer announced. "He's Mr. Ken Doll Vronsky. He's nice and he likes me, but he's pretty boring." She sat up next to Seth and leaned against him. "But I know that I won't ever love him, so he can't ever hurt me." Seth looked at her curiously. Her chin was trembling and her eyes were shining in the pale light. "I'm always crying since I met you, Seth Cohen. And I know, I met you year ago, and I haven't been crying the whole time, but I mean since I got to know you. And I thought that you thought I was special. But you just got rid of me when Anna came along. And you're not allowed to hurt me anymore. Nope!" She slipped back onto the pillows and climbed under the covers. "So you have to read to me, because if you read the book you'll know why I had to hurt you too."  
  
"Summer." Seth reached for her, but she crossed her arms and shook her head like a stubborn child.  
  
"Nope." She pointed to the book. "Read."  
  
Seth signed and continued.  
  
"Let me introduce you," said the princess, indicating Levin. "Konstantin Dmitrievitch Levin, Count Alexey Kirillovitch Vronsky." Vronsky got up and, looking cordially at Levin, shook hands with him. "I believe I was to have dined with you this winter," he said, smiling his simple and open smile; "but you had unexpectedly left for the country." "Konstantin Dmitrievitch despises and hates town and us townspeople," said Countess Nordston. "My words must make a deep impression on you, since you remember them so well," said Levin, and suddenly conscious that he had said just the same thing before, he reddened.  
  
"Kitty got up to fetch a table, and as she passed, her eyes met Levin's. She felt for him with her whole heart, the more because she was pitying him for suffering of which she was herself the cause. "If you can forgive me, forgive me," said her eyes, "I am so happy." "I hate them all, and you, and myself," his eyes responded, and he took up his hat. But he was not destined to escape."  
  
"See." Summer breathed out the whispered word. Her body relaxed as she slipped into sleep.  
  
Seth looked down at the past paragraph.  
  
"Vronsky looked wonderingly at the prince with his resolute eyes, and, with a faint smile, began immediately talking to Countess Nordston of the great ball that was to come off next week. "I hope you will be there?" he said to Kitty. As soon as the old prince turned away from him, Levin went out unnoticed, and the last impression he carried away with him of that evening was the smiling, happy face of Kitty answering Vronsky's inquiry about the ball."   
  
Levin went out unnoticed, Seth reread. He smiled to himself, sadly, closing the door quietly behind him as he left Summer alone. 


	5. The Character

Summer blinked against the glare of sunlight and slid out of her bed.  
  
"Oh, god."  
  
She looked terrible. Her Prada outfit was wrinkled beyond recognition, and her hair was messy and tangled in one of her earrings. She winced as she pulled the strands free and she walked over to the bathroom adjoined to her bedroom. She settled onto her vanity stool and listless pulled off her jewelry. She rubbed her temples and tried to remember how she'd gotten home.  
  
She saw Seth's face in her mind's eye and shivered. She tried to focus as she peeled off her clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was warm and she huddled beneath it. She lifted her face to the showerhead to wash off her makeup, and as she closed her eyes she remembered the night before.  
  
He loves you.  
  
Shut up, shut up, shut up, the voice inside scolded. Seth Cohen is not a part of your life, he cannot be a part of the life you are supposed to lead. If you start to feel, you set yourself up for hurt and pain, and that cannot happen to you. You are different from all the step-mothers, you are self-sufficient, no man controls you in any way.  
  
Summer poured some Origins Ginger shampoo into her hand and breathed in the heavy scent. Her hands found their old rhythm and rinsed out the shampoo before coating her hair in conditioner. She stood still for a moment, feeling the water slide across her bare skin.  
  
A chill swept through her and she increased the temperature of the water. You have decided, the little voice told her, and you chose correctly. Summer nodded her head resolutely and rinsed her hair before stepping out of the shower. She wrapped herself in a towel and sat before her vanity.  
  
Summer reached for a bottle of Armani foundation.  
  
It was time to put the mask back on.  
  
********************  
  
Summer strode down the aisles of the hospital to visit Mr. Feinberg. These weren't her normal visit hours, and she was wearing a typical pre-Seth- Cohen Summer Roberts outfit - a short green pleated skirt with two tanks layered on top. She pulled the strap of the lilac one over the white underpinning and knocked on the door to #541.  
  
"Come on in!"  
  
"Well!" Summer swept into the room with a smile plastered on her face. "Doesn't someone should cheerful today?"  
  
"You're one to talk, my dear." The old man winked at her. "You seem like a new person today. funny, I thought that I was the one on the special medication."  
  
"Mr. Feinberg!" Summer playfully swatted his arm and settled down next to him. "I just wanted to stop in and see you for a bit to tell you that I'm sorry I've been such a total mope lately. I'm back to Miss Bubbly again, I promise."  
  
"Sweetheart, there's no need to be Miss Bubbly, just be Miss Summer." Mr. Feinberg winked at her. "But before you go, we have some reading to do."  
  
"Mr. Feinberg." Summer mock-whined in protest.  
  
"C'mon." He slid open his bedside drawer and pulled out a copy of Anna Karenina. "Shh, don't tell anyone I swiped it from the cart."  
  
"You're just a regular secret agent man." Summer teased.  
  
"Ah, yes." Mr. Feinberg pushed up his glasses and affected a British accent. "Just can me Feinberg, Richard Feinberg." He handed the book over to her, and she sighed as she took it from him.  
  
"Fine, fine," she conceded. "But just a little bit. I have a date with the noon sunshine, and my tan is in need of some serious help."  
  
"That is serious." Mr. Feinberg agreed solemnly before smiling. Summer smiled back at him and flipped open the book to the marked page.  
  
"At the end of the evening Kitty told her mother of her conversation with Levin, and in spite of all the pity she felt for Levin, she was glad at the thought that she had received an OFFER. She had no doubt that she had acted rightly. But after she had gone to bed, for a long while she could not sleep. One impression pursued her relentlessly. It was Levin's face, with his scowling brows, and his kind eyes looking out in dark dejection below them, as he stood listening to her father, and glancing at her and at Vronsky. And she felt so sorry for him that tears came into her eyes."  
  
Summer's voice had started off strong and steady, but Mr. Feinberg caught a slight tremor as she read the last line. He watched her carefully as she paused slightly, inhaled and resumed, tossing her hair down her back and smiling animatedly. The break in character was almost imperceptible. She began reading again brightly. Every few lines, she'd slip a bit, and he watched as she built herself back up quickly. He shook his head gently. Poor girl.  
  
"But immediately she thought of the man for whom she had given him up. She vividly recalled his manly, resolute face, his noble self-possession, and the good nature conspicuous in everything towards everyone. She remembered the love for her of the man she loved, and once more all was gladness in her soul, and she lay on the pillow, smiling with happiness. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry; but what could I do? It's not my fault," she said to herself; but an inner voice told her something else. Whether she felt remorse at having won Levin's love, or at having refused him, she did not know. But her happiness was poisoned by doubts. "Lord, have pity on us; Lord, have pity on us; Lord, have pity on us!" she repeated to herself, till she fell asleep."  
  
She shut the book and smiled at him again. "And with that, I'm off to sleep in the sun!" Summer stood up and smoothed out her skirt, placing the book back on the nightstand table.  
  
"Summer."  
  
She turned and softened at the concerned look on the older man's face.  
  
He spoke quietly. "You don't always have to be so brave, you know."  
  
She gave him a slight, one-sided smile, lifting her chin before responding.  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
She nodded at him and left the room, her words resonating through her thoughts.  
  
********************  
  
Summer enjoyed the ride to the beach. The wind blew her hair gently across her shoulders, and she sang along with the radio. A spot was open near the snack shack, and she slid the Mercedes into the space easily before heading down to the spot when Newport's most popular teenagers had gathered for years.  
  
She smiled broadly as she approached the group, and noted Tom Seekin's face as she came closer. He cleared a space on his blanket and motioned for her to sit with him. As she settled into the space, she noticed the envy radiating from Holly and Ally. She breathed a little easier. Okay, the voice reminded her, Tom wants you, so he's your ticket back to the top of the food chain - just don't screw it up.  
  
"Hey hottie." Tom slung an arm around her and pulled her closer. She tried not to wince. "We were all thinking about making an appearance at the country club bash this Friday. You in?"  
  
"I'm in if you're in," she flirted. "What's the party for, anyway?"  
  
"It's 'Under the Sea'" Holly snorted. "Like, can you believe that theme? It's for like, water wildlife or something. Whatever. At least they don't card at the club bar."  
  
"Totally!" Summer spoke a little too loudly, but then quickly regained her composure. "I'm sure it'll be, like, awesome. We totally have to go shopping, girls! I've got Daddy's Visa!"  
  
Holly and Ally squealed, and Summer kept a grin on her face while inwardly groaned. It was all so fake.  
  
"Just get something sexy." Tom nuzzled her neck.  
  
"Aren't I always sexy?" Summer volleyed back.  
  
Tom laughed and stroked her bare skin. Summer tried to concentrate on the warm sunlight. You used to love this, the voice reminded. Summer surveyed the teenagers on the blanket and resigned herself to her old life. She looks at Tom carefully. He may not be perfect, the voice told her, but at least you're his first choice. 


	6. The Mermaid Swims Away

A/N: Well, I take it back - this fanfic will have at least ten chapters. The next excerpts from Anna Karenina are some of my favorite in the novel. The next two chapters have the excerpts interwoven with the scene - all passages have the entire paragraph in quotations. Please read and review!  
  
********************  
  
Summer fidgeted in class. Thank god it was Friday, she thought. The week at school had been exhausting. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but she was satisfied that she's regained her position in Harbor's social circle. It fact, she'd become more popular than ever before - with Marissa off in permanent Ryan-obsession-land, there'd been a vacancy for cheerful queen bee. It wasn't a position that Summer had ever thought of assuming, but it was better than pining over Seth Cohen.  
  
She felt heat rising in her cheeks and tried to focus on her biology textbook. Her grades has skyrocketed this year, and she'd earned pair of diamond earrings from her father for her straight A average on her fall report card. Well, she thought bitterly, they weren't really from Dad. Her father's secretary had picked them out, as she discovery when she noticed the forged signature at the bottom of the card.  
  
Summer glanced around the room. She'd already memorized the information last night with a study session with Tom. The great thing about Tom, she'd realized, is that she was not interested in him at all, so she never got nervous or distracted around him. His presence allowed her to remain completely in control - just the way she liked it.  
  
From across the room, she couldn't help watching Seth hunched over his textbook. He was chewing the end of his pen thoughtfully when he stopped, looked up and noticed her. Their eyes met, and she couldn't help it. She gave him a small smile, watching as he returned her glance with a large grin as he leaned back in his stool.  
  
BAM! Summer startled as Seth's stool toppled backwards and he hit the floor hard. She leapt out of her seat and rushed over to him, kneeling beside him as the rest of the class looked on.  
  
"Ow." Seth groaned, rubbing his head as his face wrinkled in pain. Summer pushed the stool off his body and startled as he caught her hand. She looked up at his face and softened as she noticed a cut across one cheek where he'd scraped the side of the table behind them when he fell.  
  
"Are you okay?" Her voice was soft. She was acutely aware of his breathing, his hand tracing circles over her own.  
  
"See, Summer." Seth struggled to sit up, murmuring something only she could hear. "You're not the only one who got hurt."  
  
********************  
  
"There's my girl!" Tom was waiting for Summer at her locker. "I heard you were a regular Florence Nightingale in bio today."  
  
"Yeah, that's me!" She swallowed her discomfort and smiled as she changed the subject. "So, what time are you picking me up tonight?"  
  
"7:00 good for you?"  
  
She nodded, and he smiled.  
  
"Can't wait."  
  
Summer opened her locker, watching as Tom walked away, high-fiving his water polo buddies.  
  
I can, she thought.  
  
***************  
  
Summer had been visiting Mr. Feinberg throughout the week, and he'd encouraged her to read chapters 22 and 23 by herself. "There will be passages that you will want to memorize," he'd intoned, "and you should. Remember them when the novel parallels your own life." At the time she'd laughed - like an old Russian guy could really know anything about the world of Newport parties. But as she and Tom glided into the club's "Under the Sea" benefit, she felt the words rushing back to her.  
  
"The ball was only just beginning as Kitty and her mother walked up the great staircase, flooded with light, and lined with flowers and footmen in powder and red coats. From the rooms came a constant, steady hum, as from a hive, and the rustle of movement; and while on the landing between trees they gave last touches to their hair and dresses before the mirror, they heard from the ballroom the careful, distinct notes of the fiddles of the orchestra beginning the first waltz. Although her dress, her coiffure, and all the preparations for the ball had cost Kitty great trouble and consideration, at this moment she walked into the ballroom in her elaborate tulle dress over a pink slip as easily and simply as though all the rosettes and lace, all the minute details of her attire, had not cost her or her family a moment's attention, as though she had been born in that tulle and lace, with her hair done up high on her head, and a rose and two leaves on the top of it."  
  
Summer knew that she was a natural at these club parties. In the last year she'd gained a new type of poise and maturity, and it reflected in her outward appearance. Before, she might have chose a cleavage-baring dress, but now her taste was more classic - though just as sexy, as she'd discovered from Tom's approving look. Her Carolina Herrara gown was the deepest inky blue velvet - almost black, but with a richness to the fabric. The dress has a wide, scooped neckline that displayed her neck to its best advantage, and a hand-embroidered Valentino shawl fell appealingly off to one side, showing a hint of skin. Her matching stilettos gave her an extra three inches in height, and she drew herself up as Tom took her arm and guided her into the room.  
  
The room was lovely. A sea of tonal blue tulle was draped from the ceiling, and tiny fishbowls everywhere caught the light of the hundreds of candles through the room. "You look so good, Summer." Tom whispered.  
  
"She smiled at his praise, and continued to look about the room over his shoulder. She was not like a girl at her first ball, for whom all faces in the ballroom melt into one vision of fairyland. And she was not a girl who had gone the stale round of balls till every face in the ballroom was familiar and tiresome. But she was in the middle stage between these two; she was excited, and at the same time she had sufficient self-possession to be able to observe. In the left corner of the ballroom she saw the cream of society gathered together."  
  
Holly and Ally looked on as Summer gave them a small wave. They returned the gesture, and in doing so acknowledged her new reign as queen of the Harbor social circle. Summer greeted Tom's parents politely, and then excused herself with the pretense of finding Marissa. Tom encouraged her to dance, telling her that his friend Lance was single for the night.  
  
"But I came to be here with you." Summer gave a slight pout.  
  
"I know." Tom smiled. "But I've got to get in some quality family time if my parents are going to let me use the house in Malibu for that party next week."  
  
Summer had acquiesced, secretly relieved. She handed him her shawl to hold, not wanting to be encumbered as she moved through the ballroom. She knew Marissa probably wouldn't be at the party, but she needed some excuse to wander.  
  
Just when she thought she was free, she saw him.  
  
Seth looked at her and immediately took a step towards her before pausing and fidgeting as he stood still.  
  
She watched his eyes carefully, and read them as he looked her over.  
  
".a black, low-cut, velvet gown, showing her full throat and shoulders, that looked as though carved in old ivory, and her rounded arms, with tiny, slender wrists. The whole gown was trimmed with Venetian guipure. All that was noticeable was the little wilful tendrils of her curly hair that would always break free about her neck and temples. Round her neck was a thread of pearls. And her black dress, with its sumptuous lace, was not noticeable on her; it was only the frame, and all that was seen was she-simple, natural, elegant."  
  
Summer moved toward him - to do what? the voice asked. To apologize, to explain, to kiss him? She didn't know and yet she was moving towards him, her little feet delicately kicking up her dress, revealing flashes of her silver shoes.  
  
"Hi."  
  
Seth bit the inside of his cheek. "Hey, there, Summer. I'm not here to stalk you or anything, my mom dragged us along when my grandpa decided to buy a few of the tables at this thing."  
  
"Oh, right." Summer looked down, unsure of what to say. They were standing near the edge of the dance floor, and she looked at the moving couples before returning her gaze to his face.  
  
"She expected him to ask her for a waltz, but he did not, and she glanced wonderingly at him. He flushed slightly, and hurriedly asked her to waltz."  
  
Seth's right hand hesitantly circled around the deep velvet that covered her waist, and she circled one hand around his neck while clasping her other hand is his left one. They moved slowly, and felt all the words boiling up inside her. He spoke.  
  
"Hey, so, 'Under the Sea' - that's a pretty cool theme. I guess that your wish really came true after all."  
  
Summer looked up at him, startled.  
  
"Yes, Sherlock, you've got it. My fondest wish is to be here with Tom and get stuck dancing with a loser like you." She felt the words tumble out of her mouth and saw him recoil as they struck him like little knives.  
  
"He had only just put his arm round her waist and taken the first step when the music suddenly stopped."  
  
"I meant that - under the sea - you're finally a mermaid." Seth's eyes glistened as her face softened. God, she'd hurt him again.  
  
"Kitty looked into his face, which was so close to her own, and long afterwards-for several years after-that look, full of love, to which he made no response, cut her to the heart with an agony of shame." 


	7. The Role of a Lifetime

A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the reviews, you all have really inspired me to keep updating quickly! This is a short chapter, marking the ending of the unofficial "Part One" of this fan fic. This chapter also features lyrics from the song "How Can I Remember" by Alan and Marilyn Bergman. If you'd like to hear it, it's on the update of "Sabrina" starring Harrison Ford. Again, passages from Anna Karenina are in quotations, and the song lyrics will have asterisk around them. Please review!  
  
********************  
  
After Seth stepped away from her, Summer felt empty. She watched the room with hallowed eyes, trying to distinguish who was acting and who was being. She'd learned the difference.  
  
She settled into a high-backed chair at one of the tables. A fishbowl served as the centerpiece, surrounding by tiny votive candles. She leaned forward to examine her reflection floating within the water. And a thought occurred to her.  
  
I've forgotten who I used to be.  
  
The memories flooded through her. That was the trouble. All my life, she realized, I've been living two separate existences. It's like the book. I'm not just Kitty - no girl can be just Kitty, there has to be a tinge of Anna mixed in, and the only thing I can control now if which side is revealed, and when.  
  
She tucked an errant wave of hair behind her ear and stood just as Tom approached.  
  
"Hey sexy, ready for a spin around the floor?" He waggled his hips and Summer prayed that he wasn't giving he a preview of his dancing. She needed to be in control, and the next few moments were crucial.  
  
She moved towards him slowly with a slight smile, stalling for time. Thank god, the voice hushed, as the orchestra finished their song and moved into a slower piece. A tall redhead stepped up to the microphone and began to hum softly with the music. She placed her hand in Tom's and they began to dance.  
  
She could not feel his hands on her back, and though her eyes appeared to meet his she was glancing behind him, peering into the heart of Seth Cohen. He was slouched over at his parents' empty table, his tie undone and a tiny glass can of Mountain Dew in his hand. His feet were splayed out in front of him, and he was watching her.  
  
He's always watching you, the voice reminded, but you have to stop watching him. He is not in the plan. No more Kitty tonight, the voice reprimanded. For the next few minutes, be Anna Karenina.  
  
Play the part, the voice suggested. She felt her body move into character as she smiled slightly.  
  
Summer caught sight of herself in the club's mirrored walls and watched herself as though observing a stranger.  
  
"She saw her suddenly quite new and surprising. She saw in her the signs of that excitement of success she knew so well in herself; she saw that she was intoxicated with the delighted admiration she was exciting. She knew that feeling and knew its signs, and saw them in; saw the quivering, flashing light in her eyes, and the smile of happiness and excitement unconsciously playing on her lips, and the deliberate grace, precision, and lightness of her movements. She obeyed with external liveliness the peremptory shouts of Korsunsky starting them all into the grand round, and then into the chaine, and at the same time she kept watch with a growing pang at her heart. 'No, it's not the admiration of the crowd has intoxicated her, but the adoration of one. And that one? Can it be he?'"  
  
Summer looked up at Tom. Could it be he? She tried to answer yes, forcing a smile so big that a tear slipped down her face. It splashed onto her gown and dissolved away, unnoticed by everyone. She felt Anna Karenina slipping away from her as though she was losing a familiar disguise, and Kitty's fears reverberated within her skin because those fears were her own.  
  
"The whole ball, the whole world, everything seemed lost in fog in Kitty's soul. Nothing but the stern discipline of her bringing-up supported her and forced her to do what was expected of her, that is, to dance, to answer questions, to talk, even to smile. But before the mazurka, when they were beginning to rearrange the chairs and a few couples moved out of the smaller rooms into the big room, a moment of despair and horror came for Kitty."  
  
The singer began, an aching, slow blues song that filled the dim room.  
  
*How can I remember things that never happened?  
  
Arms that never held me,  
  
Lips I've never kissed.  
  
How can I remember?  
  
Why do I keep seeing someone's face before me?  
  
Eyes that say they know me,  
  
Shining through the mist,  
  
Eyes that I remember.  
  
I don't know why or when or where.  
  
I feel suspended in mid-air.  
  
Somewhere between a dream and a memory  
  
Would then and there meet somewhere?*  
  
"But while she looked like a butterfly, clinging to a blade of grass, and just about to open its rainbow wings for fresh flight, her heart ached with a horrible despair."  
  
*Why do I keep hearing some familiar music?  
  
Half forgotten love songs, Running through my mind.  
  
Why do I remember?  
  
There are many things I may not understand,  
  
But somehow I knew that you would take my hand.  
  
I always knew you'd find me,  
  
Always knew you'd love me.  
  
Long before I met you,  
  
Don't ask me when.  
  
Ever since I can remember,  
  
I remember you.*  
  
"No one but she herself understood her position; no one knew that she had just refused the man whom perhaps she loved."  
  
Summer shook her head and stepped back into character. You're Summer Roberts, the voice reminded her. She saw Holly and Ally watching her from the edge of the dance floor, she noticed the admiring look on Tom's face, she felt the approving glances from the exclusive Newport society. It figures, she thought, that the moment I no longer care about popularity is the same moment that it becomes effortless.  
  
Summer glided across the room on Tom's arm, reading envy on her friends' faces. Tom fetched her a flute of sparking water and he spoke to her with caressing words, letting his hands touch her waist at intermittent moments. And though she kept her focus on Tom's face, she could feel Seth's eyes upon her. He was watching her, as always.  
  
And Summer was watching herself as well. She was out of her body, a casual observer, looking at Summer and Tom.  
  
"She saw them with her long-sighted eyes, and saw them, too, close by, when they met in the figures, and the more she saw of them the more convinced was she that her unhappiness was complete."  
  
Summer caught sight of herself in the mirror and realized that it was done. She had made her choice - there could be no regrets.  
  
"She was charming in her simple black dress, charming were her round arms with their bracelets, charming was her firm neck with its thread of pearls, charming the straying curls of her loose hair, charming the graceful, light movements of her little feet and hands, charming was that lovely face in its eagerness, but there was something terrible and cruel in her charm." 


	8. The End of Part One

A/N: This (admitted brief chapter) is from Seth's perspective, and serves as the (real) finale to part one, both in this fan fic and in excerpts from Anna Karenina. Don't worry - it will cheer up soon! The next (l-o-n-g) chapter is already in progress and will bring on the romance! Please read and review - the reviews help inspire me to update quickly!  
  
********************  
  
Seth felt sick. He watched Tom spin Summer around the dance floor and he saw all the things that he'd wished for himself and Summer, realized in the actions of someone else. This must have been what Summer felt when she saw me with Anna, he realized.  
  
No wonder she's scared.  
  
He watched as Tom touched Summer's cheek and couldn't stand it any longer. He slipped out of the club, glad that he'd driven separately from his parents. He had to get home. He opened the door to the Range Rover and slid inside, sitting still for a moment. A car drove past him, illuminating the interior of the vehicle and lighting up the pile on the passenger seat. Seth reached over and pulled out a book.  
  
Anna Karenina.  
  
He smiled wryly, recalling his conversation with Summer about the novel, reading to her as she drifted off to sleep. I'm such an idiot, he berated himself - if I hadn't been too scared to just be honest with the girls, to tell them that I wanted Summer, this never would have happened. He flipped open the book to a random page and read, his eyes squinting in the semidarkness.  
  
"And I don't get on with other people. Pride, they say. No, I have no pride. If I had any pride, I should not have put myself in such a position." And Levin pictured to himself Vronsky, happy, good-natured, clever, and self-possessed, certainly never placed in the awful position in which he had been that evening. "Yes, she was bound to choose him. So it had to be, and I cannot complain of anyone or anything. I am myself to blame. What right had I to imagine she would care to join her life to mine? Whom am I and what am I? A nobody, not wanted by any one, nor of use to anybody."  
  
Seth sighed and spoke aloud to himself. "Well, that's just great." He began to shut the book when he paused. He slid a piece of paper inside the volume to mark the page before placing it back on the passenger seat.  
  
Slowly, he began to drive home.  
  
*************************  
  
Seth pushed open the door to his room and fell backwards onto his bed. He kicked his shoes off lazily, watching as they soared across the room.  
  
"Damnit," he muttered as one shoe knocked over a shelf of papers from the edge of his desk. He eased himself off the bed and started picking up the loose papers. His brow furrowed as he looked them over. Childlike drawings were scattered across the floor, signed by a large "Mr. Seth" signature at the bottom. He examined the folder and pulled a yellow post- it off the front cover.  
  
"Seth - found these while cleaning out my office. Thought you might want to look at them before they go into the Great Unfinished Scrapbook Archives. Love you. - Mom" Seth settled down on the floor, stretching out as he sorted through the papers. He smiled at the drawings of Star Wars characters, a hobby he'd continued to this day. Next came renditions of the Cohen's house, his dad surfing, his mom wearing a business suit, a little boy with puffy brown hair on a skateboard. Ah, even then the Jewfro was in full effect, he grinned.  
  
He stopped as he picked up the finally drawing, the smile fading from his face.  
  
The mermaid had been carefully drawn, and a light pencil outline was barely visible beneath the surface of the colored markers. A small bit of green and blue glitter still clung to her tail, and she shone softly in the dim light. Her long dark hair partially concealed her face, and she looked at Seth with wide eyes. It was impossible to read her expression, and Seth wondered what he'd intended her to feel, all those years ago, when he'd drawn it. Was she just about to smile? He wondered. Or was she on the verge of crying?  
  
Although, he realized, when mermaids cry, no one can tell. The ocean soaks up all their tears.  
  
The drawing was more mature than the other ones, and Seth squinted at the bottom of the picture. A caption had been written in pencil and then erased, but the writing was still visible.  
  
"To Summer - I really like you. I hope that since you're a mermaid in this picture, you won't have to turn into one in real life, because I don't want you to swim away. - Seth"  
  
Seth looked up, glancing around his room. He strode over to his bed and grabbed the copy of Anna Karenina he'd brought in from the car, turning pages frantically, looking for a passage.  
  
"The study was slowly lit up as the candle was brought in. The familiar details came out: the stag's horns, the bookshelves, the looking-glass, the stove with its ventilator, which had long wanted mending, his father's sofa, a large table, on the table an open book, a broken ash tray, a manuscript book with his handwriting. As he saw all this, there came over him for an instant a doubt of the possibility of arranging the new life, of which he had been dreaming on the road. All these traces of his life seemed to clutch him, and to say to him: 'No, you're not going to get away from us, and you're not going to be different, but you're going to be the same as you've always been; with doubts, everlasting dissatisfaction with yourself, vain efforts to amend, and falls, and everlasting expectation, of a happiness which you won't get, and which isn't possible for you.' This the things said to him, but another voice in his heart was telling him that he must not fall under the sway of the past, and that one can do anything with oneself."  
  
I'm not giving up, he vowed. Seth picked up Captain Oats and spoke to the horse. "You and me, Captain Oats. We're going to get our girl - even if we look like total idiots in the process." Seth became aware that he was talking to a plastic toy. He set Captain Oats down. "Even if I look like an idiot, even if she breaks my heart - I know that there's something there - and I'm not giving up until she admits it." 


	9. The Bridge of Tulips

A/N: Well, I couldn't help myself - I spent much longer than I'd planned to working on this (long!) chapter, trying to update quickly for you guys! Here's chapter 9 - the beginning of the second part of the fan fic, matching up with the second part of Anna Karenina. I hope you guys like it, and please read and review!  
  
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Summer leaned back against the sand and tried to focus on her biology textbook. A year ago, she would have been immersed in a fashion magazine at the beach, but she was determined to keep her straight-A average intact. That's the best thing about this year, she thought bitterly, before she shook the thought out of her head and smiled up at Tom. He was sprawled out next to her in the circle of beach towels. Newport's young social stars, she realized.  
  
Tom sat up as Beyonce's "Crazy in Love" boomed through the speakers of the radio situated in the middle of the circle. He rolled over onto her towel and put his arms around her.  
  
"Got me looking so crazy in love." He hummed along with the radio softly while stroking her neck, and Summer looked down. Tom was a good guy. Was she crazy in love with him? No. But, she rationalized, he was the one who wanted her.  
  
"I'm going to go get a drink, okay?" She stood up and brushed the sand off her legs, wrapping a pareo around her hips.  
  
"We've got some stuff here, baby." Tom gestured to a cooler.  
  
"I'm dying for some raspberry lemonade," she lied. Tom nodded and waved as he rolled onto his back, closing his eyes in the sun.  
  
Summer made her way across the beach. The snack shack was farther away than she'd anticipated and she frowned as she walked unevenly on the sand. The days seemed longer than ever before.  
  
The line at the snack shack was long - it just curled around the side of the building. Summer leaned against the warm wood walls, grateful for the shade. She closed her eyes, only to open them quickly when a hand closed around her wrist.  
  
"What the-" Her angry outburst trailed off as she looked up at Seth Cohen's face.  
  
"Seth." She mentally kicked herself for softening her voice. "Cohen." Good, she'd managed a harder pronunciation. "What do you think you're doing?"  
  
He didn't say anything - a rare occurrence in the world of Seth. He tugged her wrist again and she stepped towards him, following him as he slid open a door to a small room attached to the snack shack.  
  
A small, round window lit the tiny room, which was filled with supplies for the concession stand. A cracked mirror propped against a tower of boxes reflected the sunshine and sent rainbows dancing across the walls.  
  
Summer was acutely conscious of Seth's fingers on her wrist and she shivered, pulling her arm away to rub her shoulder. She bit down on her lower lip and looked up at him, trying to focus.  
  
"What do you think you're doing? Are you following me now?" She was trying to be angry. "Damnit, Seth, you can't keep doing this to me."  
  
"What am I doing?" Seth's voice was desperate. "Summer, I don't know what I'm doing. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about you. Yes, I know, I made a huge mistake. I should have picked you - I was just scared, and I know that you're scared too."  
  
Summer was fidgeting with the side tie of her pareo, trying not to look at him. She took a deep breath and spoke with measured words.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" She could feel herself on the verge of tears. No, no, no. "Why can't you just let it be?"  
  
"Because." Seth stepped towards her, and she knew she should open the door, leave, run back to Tom, but she couldn't. She was frozen in place by the warm sun streaming through the window, by the rainbows moving across Seth's white shirt, by the beautiful stillness in the air, by the heady anticipation of it all.  
  
"Because?" Summer whispered the question and it hung above them like the North Star - if they could answer it, maybe they could both find the way home. She felt his eyes traveling over the contours of her face, and she looked up at him. His brown eyes were tender and his lashes brushed the edge of his eyelids. His lips were curled in a nervous smile.  
  
"Because." And the word was no longer a question; it was the start of a million answers that they spoke to each other silently. Because you're the only one who makes me feel this way. Because I dream about you every night. Because when I see you smile, my whole day is better. Because when I think about the future, you're always there. Because our few moments together have meant more to me than a thousand accolades ever could. Because I love you now, because I always have, because I always will.  
  
He ran his fingers across her cheeks and one tear sprung free from her eyes, trailing down her skin. He caught it with the tips of his fingers and cupped her face in his hands, leaning forward.  
  
Summer was trying to muster the momentum to leave when his lips brushed against hers and her eyes instinctively closed. She shivered again and he wrapped his arms around her. She pressed against him, feeling the heat of their bodies meshing together, warming her.  
  
And they were kissing.  
  
She reached out, her fingers skimming the sensitive skin on the back of his neck and weaving through his dark hair. His mouth curved against hers and she felt the kiss deepen.  
  
She wasn't thinking.  
  
She was just Summer. He was just Seth.  
  
The realization of what was happening pushed down on Summer, forcing her to ground herself back in reality. Tom. Oh, god. A guilty grimace allowed her to pull away from Seth as she stepped back and sat down on one of the cardboard boxes.  
  
"Summer." Seth kneeled in front of her. He reached out for her hands and she let him take them. She looked up at him.  
  
Her face was etched with emotion - longing, fear, guilt, sadness. Love? Seth wondered as he gently traced her palms with his fingertips.  
  
"I'm with Tom." She spit out the words and Seth felt her bricking up the space between them as Summer began to construct her wall again.  
  
She drew her hands back and folded them into her body. "I can't do this to him." She said the words to herself, but Seth heard them all the same.  
  
"Tom?" Seth heard the tremor in his voice and tried to lighten his words. "Summer." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Does he make you laugh?"  
  
She shook her head and a dart of hope shot through him. "No." She looked over to the broken mirror, and then back to Seth's encouraged face. Her voice wavered as she spoke. "But he doesn't make me cry."  
  
His body crumpled and his head nodded slowly.  
  
"Oh." He stood up. "Okay."  
  
He opened the door and slipped out of the shed as Summer raised her hands to her mouth to trace her lips. But by the time she opened the door, he was already gone.  
  
********************  
  
Mercifully, the next few weeks passed quickly. Summer received permission from her biology instructor to work on an independent project during class time. Mr. Clauson had been thrilled with Summer's new interest in the ecological impact of the new housing development on the Larson Pond. She felt a little guilty about exaggerating her passion for biology, but she knew herself, and if she had to see Seth every day for an hour her defenses would crack quickly.  
  
Thankfully, the project was fascinating. She was surprised by how much she liked gathering water and soil samples. Who would have thought it, she'd contemplated many times, that I'd be happy in old jeans and a mud-streaked t-shirt, kneeling among plants to measure the growth of foliage?  
  
The extra work has paid off in unexpected ways. Between her biology project and her hospital volunteer work, Summer had little time to spend with Tom. She liked him, she did, but she felt guilty whenever she was with him - not just about the kisses she'd shared with Seth, but because she knew that she would never love him.  
  
Her pal at the hospital, Mr. Feinberg, was always excited to see her, and she found that he was one person she really looked forward to visiting. They were still reading Anna Karenina, and mercifully, the book had turned away from Kitty and Levin's story. Summer was able to read the words with an unguarded emotion, finally free from the resonating landmines that had exploded when the text had focused on the failed romance.  
  
Mr. Feinberg loved to hear about her project, and Summer often discussed him with it at length. She was pleasantly surprised to hear that botany had been one of his hobbies as a young man.  
  
"Botany?" She smiled. "Wow, you must have really drive the ladies crazy with your bad self."  
  
"Well, maybe not." Mr. Feinberg winked at her. "But never underestimate the impact of flowers on a lady."  
  
"Really?" Summer leaned forward. "That sounds like a story!"  
  
"Darling, when you're as old as I am, everything has a story."  
  
He began to speak.  
  
"When I was 18, I fell in love with the most beautiful girl in the world. She was lovely - long red hair, green eyes, fair skin with freckles - beautiful. Of course, all the boys in town were after her. But I'd heard through local gossip that she was crazy about tulips, just loved them."  
  
"Those are my favorites, too." Summer said.  
  
"Right!" Mr. Feinberg chuckled. "So, most of the other boys in town thought that tulips were wimp flowers. The boys who took her out always went for the big, showy bouquets of roses. Well, I decided to be different. I read everything I could about tulips and started growing them in family's yard. I cared for them like my children, watering them, measuring the sun levels, checking the soils, everything. And one day they were all in bloom."  
  
"So what did you do?" Summer asked eagerly.  
  
"I cut the stems and laid them out in the back of my trusty old pickup truck and I drive over to her house. She had one of those big, beautiful porches, and I'd seen her reading out there. So I covered the porch in tulips. I had a pretty big collection of glass bottles from my part-time job at the soda plant, so I used them as green glass vases and lines the edge of the porch. Then I hung bouquets of the little guys from the ceiling before lining tulips all around the porch railing. I tell you, young lady, it was a sight to be seen."  
  
"So what happened? Who was the girl?"  
  
"I can answered with one sentence. That girl became Delia Feinberg, and we were married in a garden of tulips eight months later. I spent fifty-two years with my beautiful bride before she passed on, and I can still tell you the way she looked when she found me after she found me."  
  
"You didn't stay to see her reaction?"  
  
"Nope." Mr. Feinberg shook his head slowly. "That would have been selfish. I just wanted to make her happy. Lucky for me, her being happy including being with me."  
  
Summer smiled. "That's a really great story."  
  
Mr. Feinberg raised his eyebrows. "Just proves you have to take chances for love."  
  
Summer gave him half a smile. "You're right."  
  
She returned to her reading, his words echoing under her skin.  
  
********************  
  
Summer headed up the steps to school, trying to pull her hair into a ponytail as Tom bounded out to greet her.  
  
"Hey baby! I've got great news!"  
  
"Oh, cool." Summer pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "What's up with you?"  
  
"Nothing! It's you!"  
  
Summer's brows furrowed. "What?"  
  
"C'mon!" He grabbed her hand and lead her into the school. There, posted on the "Outstanding Student" board was a Summer's yearbook poster, and an announcement that she was the state finalist for the National Science Achievement Award.  
  
Summer looked at the type, stunned. Her biology teacher sidled up to her.  
  
"I hope you don't mind," he said. "I had to pick a project as Harbor's entry, and you were far and away the best. The state board just decided yesterday that you were the clear winner - I left a message on your home phone number, but no one answered."  
  
"Oh." Summer spoke with understanding. She almost never answered her home phone, not wanting to get roped into a conversation with one of her stepmother's crazy friends who didn't understand the words 'she's not here.'  
  
"Of course, I'll expect to see you at the awards banquet tomorrow evening," Mr. Clauson intoned.  
  
"Sure." Summer managed, still a bit stunned as her teacher walked away. She looked back at her photograph on the board and felt a proud smile spread across her face.  
  
********************  
  
Summer tapped her foot nervously against the floor. She was seated at a table with Tom and his family at the awards banquet. Her own father was still abroad, but had once again tried to buy her forgiveness - this time with a necklace. It was pretty; she had to admit - a single diamond floating on a delicate platinum chain. She smoothed the skirt on her ivory Prada dress, adjusting the pleated shoulder straps on the simple design.  
  
Summer watched as Mr. Clauson stepped up to the microphone on stage. Oh, god. This was her award. She swallowed.  
  
"For her excellent work investigating the effects of the development boom on the Larson-" Summer didn't hear the rest of what he was saying. Breathe, she told herself. You just have to walk up the stairs, shake his hand, and go backstage. That's it.  
  
"- a rare intuitive student, Ms. Summer Roberts."  
  
Summer smiled and stood up, weaving her way around the tables to the front of the hall. She climbed the stairs with ease. Good, no stumbles, a little voice inside complimented. She met Mr. Clauson as he handed her a small crystal statuette with her name and the title of the award engraved at the base. She managed a polite "thank you" and stepped backstage.  
  
Whew. She breathed in. She was supposed to return to her seat immediately afterward, slipping in through a concealed side entrance to the hall, but she needed a moment. She felt dizzy, so she settled down on a prop bench backstage, focusing on breathing as she closed her eyes.  
  
She didn't know how long she'd been backstage when she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. Her eyes flickered open, and Seth's face spun above her. The look of concern on his face scared her.  
  
"Seth," she managed. "I feel-" Summer drew in a deep intake of breath and tried to stand up. She felt her legs buzzing as they slipped out from underneath her as the world went black.  
  
"Summer?" Seth spoke frantically to the girl that lay cradled in his arms. "Summer, c'mon, please." He looked around the backstage area and spotted a vaguely familiar Harbor teacher. "Hey. Hey! I need help!" The woman hurried over.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"She just fainted, I don't know, we need a doctor. Call an ambulance." Seth spoke frantically and the woman pulled out her cell phone to call 9-1- 1.  
  
Summer moaned softly and Seth bit down on his lip as his eyes crinkled in relief. "Oh, thank you," he said quietly.  
  
Her eyes flickered and she looked up at him. "What happened?" Her words were slightly slurred as her head rolled back. The overhead light hit her neck and Seth noticed that her skin was an unnatural pink.  
  
"They're coming." The woman returned to Seth's side and looked over at Summer. "The school has a great 9-1-1 response rate - don't worry, they'll be here soon. I'm Ms. Keyes, by the way."  
  
"Seth Cohen." His eyes never left Summer's face.  
  
"Who is she?"  
  
"Summer. Um, Summer Roberts."  
  
"Is she your girlfriend?"  
  
Seth paused and looked at Summer's pale face. He felt lost.  
  
"She's the girl I love."  
  
He heard the sirens getting louder, and watched as the paramedics burst through the side door.  
  
"Can I ride with her?" Seth asked after quickly explaining what had happened.  
  
"I'm sorry, son." The medic hesitated. "We'll be taking her to county. You can meet us there."  
  
Seth nodded and ran back into the auditorium to let his parents and Ryan know where he was headed. After he spoke with them, he took his father's keys and headed to the parking lot. Near the door, he noticed at empty seat at the Seekin's table, and a familiar beaded bag near Tom's seat. He swallowed.  
  
"Tom."  
  
Tom turned to him, startled.  
  
"Summer fainted backstage. The paramedics just took her to County - I think something might really be wrong."  
  
Tom's parents were already rising from the table. "We'll drive you, Tom." His father moved towards the door. "Young man, do you need a ride?"  
  
It took Seth a moment to realize that Mr. Seekin was talking to him. "No, I'm fine, I have a car."  
  
Tom rushed out the door with his parents as Seth stood silently for a moment beside the table. He picked up Summer's bag and sprinted to the parking lot, praying that he wouldn't be too late.  
  
********************  
  
Seth hunched over in a plastic chair outside room #441 - Summer's room. The doctors were still hovered over her, and he was waiting with the Seekin's for the diagnosis. His own father sat next to him.  
  
Sandy rubbed his son's back as the doctors came out into the hall. The small crowd gathered around to hear the news.  
  
"First off, let me tell you that Summer will be fine." Seth let out an audible breath and leaned against Sandy.  
  
"What happened?" Sandy asked.  
  
"It appeared that Summer has a slight case of scarlet fever. Now, we usually only see this in children, but it's possible that she picked it up somewhere. Seth, you mentioned a pinkness in her skin near her neck?"  
  
Seth blushed pink himself and looked at the floor. "Yeah."  
  
"That's the reason we were able to make the diagnosis so quickly. She fainted from becoming over-heated, but she should be just fine. She's not contagious, so you'll be able to visit soon. We've given her something to make her sleep, and we'll keep her here for a few days for observation - it's standard with all adult scarlet fever cases."  
  
"So, she'll be asleep all night?" Tom asked.  
  
"Yes, that's right."  
  
"Oh. Okay. Well, I guess I'll come see her in the morning." Tom's mother and father began walking towards the exit.  
  
Seth looked at their backs in disbelief as they pushed through the exits. He turned to his father. "Dad, I'm-"  
  
"Going to stay with her?" Sandy smiled as Seth nodded. "I figured. You want me to stay with you?"  
  
"No, that's okay."  
  
Sandy gave Seth a quick hug. "I'm proud of you, son. You're a good friend to her."  
  
After Sandy left, Seth located the doctor. "Listen, she's all alone, her dad is out of the country - do you think I could sit with her?"  
  
The doctor considered his proposal. "I have to draw some blood, but yes, after I'm done taking the sample, you can stay with her. We'll be ready in about 30 minutes."  
  
Seth nodded and checked his watch anxiously. The doctor observed him. "Why don't you take a walk? I'm shouldn't tell you this, but the vending machine on the fifth floor is doling out free soda. Go get yourself one."  
  
Seth smiled. "Thanks." He watched the doctor push open the door to Summer's room as he headed towards the stairs.  
  
********************  
  
Seth absently punched in the Mountain Dew bottle on the vending machine. Normally, nothing would excited him more than a free soda, but these weren't normal circumstances. He glanced at his watch. He still had 25 minutes to kill, so he ambled down the hallway, pausing as he noticed the hospital book cart outside room #541. He peered inside and was embarrassed to meet the gaze of an old man.  
  
"Take a picture, it'll last longer!" The older man laughed at his own joke.  
  
Seth spoke quickly. "Oh, I'm sorry." He began to back away from the door.  
  
"No, come in, young man, come on in." The man motioned toward him and hesitantly, Seth walked towards him.  
  
"Martin Feinberg." He held out his hand and Seth shook in gingerly.  
  
"Seth Cohen."  
  
"So, Seth Cohen, what are you doing at the hospital?"  
  
"It's my - um, well - her name's Summer."  
  
Mr. Feinberg's eyes widened. "Summer Roberts?"  
  
"Yes!" Seth leaned forward. "How do you know Summer?"  
  
"She's my reader." Mr. Feinberg gestured towards his bedside table, where a copy of Anna Karenina was opened facedown. "Wonderful young lady."  
  
Seth gave him a small smile. "I know."  
  
Mr. Feinberg studied Seth carefully before speaking. "You love her."  
  
Seth's head shot up and he looked the man in the face. "How did you know-"  
  
Mr. Feinberg continued. "She loves you."  
  
Seth blinked as goosebumps flowed through him. "Wait - she, she told you that? What did she say?"  
  
"She didn't have to say it. She told me when she was reading to me. I could read it in her face, the same way I can read it in your face."  
  
Seth nodded slowly. He felt flooded with hope.  
  
Mr. Feinberg smiled and sat up. "Let me tell you a story about tulips."  
  
********************  
  
Seth slipped back into Summer's room with a renewed sense of hope. He'd just made a slew of call on the pay phone, and he hoped that the next day he could make a new start with Summer. That feeling of her limp in his arms still haunted him - he couldn't stand the thought of losing her.  
  
He stood next to her bed, perching on the edge of the hospital mattress as he examined her face. Her cheeks had a rosy brightness to them, but the rest of her face was pale. She looked fragile, and he felt a familiar fear rise up inside of him. She shifted slightly and her mouth opened.  
  
"Seth?" The word hung in the air.  
  
"Hey sweetie, I'm here." At the sound of his voice she turned her head towards him, and her eyes flickered.  
  
"Hi." She breathed out and he smiled as she grabbed the back of his neck before bring his hand down to support his weight on the edge of the mattress. "Seth?" Her fingers managed to grab the fabric on his shirt sleeve, and she tugged at it. He moved a little closer to her.  
  
"Do you need something? Are you thirsty?"  
  
Summer shook her head slightly. "No." She pulled her body to one side of the bed, and looked up at him with wide eyes. "I'm scared."  
  
"I know, I was scared for you too, but you're going to be just fine." He figured that he should wait to explain what had happened until she was actually capable of understanding.  
  
"Seth?" Her voice was pleading. "Will you hold me?"  
  
He hesitated. She would hate him once the medication wore off, but he couldn't say no. Well, that wasn't true. He could say no - he just didn't want to.  
  
He shifted his weight onto the bed and leaned back against the wall as Summer curled against him. He stroked her hair as her breathing slowed to an even pace. The silky dark strands slipped through his fingers as he held Summer in the dimly-lit hospital room, wondering how he could go on without her.  
  
********************  
  
When Seth's eyes opened the next morning, he was acutely aware of Summer at his side. Her warm breath on his neck startled him into reality. She would be awake soon. He eased out of the bed and quietly opened the door, walking down to the nurse station. The nurse on duty assured him that everything had arrived and Seth smiled. Finally, something was going right.  
  
He set up Summer's room, being sure not to disturb her. Before he left, he pulled out the copy of Anna Karenina and set it by her bedside table. He hesitated, unsure if he should leave the last item. He picked up his suit jacket from the chair beside her bed. He tucked the program from the awards banquet back into the pocket and removed a slightly tattered piece of paper. He tucked in into an envelope with a letter he'd written the night before.  
  
He made his way to the door, hoping Summer would be happy when she woke. More than anything, he just wanted to make her happy.  
  
********************  
  
Summer pushed her head down into her pillow and breathed in with her eyes still closed. It smells good in here, she thought. Wait. Confused, she struggled to sit up and open her eyes.  
  
Oh, god.  
  
Her hospital room was covered in tulips of every color. Bouquets of flowers were placed at different heights, propped up by books. Smaller cases almost covered the stands, and everywhere she looked there were blossoms. Reds, yellows, pinks, white - the sight was gorgeous. She looked over to her nightstand, which held an impressively large bouquet of the stems. She noticed a book perched on the edge of the stand and pulled it onto the bed with her. Anna Karenina. Of course.  
  
Summer smiled excited as she pulled an envelope out from inside the book. An old, soft piece of paper came out first. A drawing of a mermaid looked back at her, and she recognized the perception of herself. She read the caption at the bottom of the page:  
  
"To Summer - I really like you. I hope that since you're a mermaid in this picture, you won't have to turn into one in real life, because I don't want you to swim away. - Seth"  
  
She gently touched the glitter affixed to the mermaid's tail and felt a thrill run through her. She opened the envelope and pulled out the other piece of paper - a letter.  
  
"Summer - In some ways the drawing says it all, only over the years my feelings have only gotten stronger. Last night, when you fainted, I thought I might lose you forever. I know that we have a complicated past, but I also know that we have a future together. Summer, I'm in love with you, and if that scares you, well, too bad. I'm scared, too. But I'm much more scared of living without you. If you feel the same way, please, come see me. I'm not going to push you anymore - it's in your hands now. Just know that I'll try so hard, Summer, if you let me, I'll love you so much. I already do. - Seth"  
  
Summer breathed deeply. The letter had exhausted her. Seth. She looked around her room, at the tulips. She was terrified at the crossroads - she loved Seth, she felt it, but he had already broken her heart once when he'd chosen Anna.  
  
She flipped open the book. It opened easily to a chapter near Part 2, and Summer slowly read the words aloud to herself.  
  
"Wasted and flushed, with a peculiar glitter in her eyes, left there by the agony of shame she had been put through, Kitty stood in the middle of the room. When the doctor came in she flushed crimson, and her eyes filled with tears. All her illness and treatment struck her as a thing so stupid, ludicrous even! Doctoring her seemed to her as absurd as putting together the pieces of a broken vase. Her heart was broken. Why would they try to cure her with pills and powders?"  
  
Summer looked up again at the flowers. Her jaw set resolutely. Maybe, she thought, I can cure myself. She smiled as she inhaled the sweet fragrance of the tulips as though breathing in a new sense of courage. 


	10. The Spring Season Begins

A/N: I apologize for the wait. hopefully it was worth it. This chapter sets up the finale - please read and review!  
  
********************  
  
In her dreams, Summer was cold. She remembered the way the snow felt against her skin and shivered in her sleep. She'd only seen winter once, visiting Vail with Marissa, and she could still picture the great white rolls of stillness. As she slept, she saw herself there once again.  
  
This time she was alone at the top of a mountain. She looked over the edge, expecting to see lush green valleys, but instead there was just more whiteness. Suddenly, the cold became painful, and the white wasn't soothing anymore, it was chillingly bright and her eyes winced from the acute color. Her winter clothing had somehow dropped away and she was shivering in a thin silk sundress, wondering how she would make it home.  
  
She hadn't heard him behind her, but before she turned around she felt him there. As she approached, her arms dropped to her sides - there was no longer the need to warm herself when he was near. He came closer, wrapped his arms around her and the snow around them melted as the water evaporated and streamed heavenwards - the reverse of rain. And he.  
  
Seth.  
  
.was smiling at her, and holding her and she was so warm, so warm in the lovely heat.  
  
********************  
  
"Code B6! Repeat, Code B6, Room 4-4-1, B6, 4-4-1."  
  
The loudspeaker boomed out commands as a flood of hospital staff filled Summer's room. She was vaguely aware of being lifted from her bed as she felt a cool breeze settle over her body. It was gone a moment later as her eyes fluttered closed again, slipping back into the comforting heat.  
  
********************  
  
When Summer opened her eyes, she was propped up in her bed again. She moved her head to stretch out her aching neck when she felt the plastic tubes running through her and noticed the IV in her arm. She startled when she noticed someone watching her.  
  
Tom.  
  
Summer curled the small of her back into the bed and pressed away from him. He'd settled into the visitor chair in her room, and she was grateful for the space between them. She looked around and realized that they were alone.  
  
"What happened to me?" She gestured to the tubes and the IV.  
  
"Oh, you overheated, I guess." Tom shoved his hangs in his pockets and stood over her. She looked up at him, feeling small and uneasy.  
  
"What do you mean, 'I overheated, you guess?'" Summer's voice raised with frustration.  
  
"It's like, a common complication with scarlet fever, babe." Tom looked visibly uncomfortable. "Anyway, I guess the hospital called your dad or something, because he wants you to go up to Napa."  
  
"Napa Valley?" Summer's voice tremored at a much higher pitch than normal. "Why?"  
  
"There's like, a clinic there." Tom leaned against the doorway. "Anyway, I was thinking we should cool stuff off while you cool off, you know?"  
  
Summer raised her eyebrows. Even in her condition, she could recognize the fear in his voice, and knew when to take control. It'd be easier for both of them. "You're right. We should break up. I'd hate to become a burden."  
  
"Wow," Tom spoke slowly, "you're a really cool girl, Summer. Feel better."  
  
He swung out of the room as Summer smiled incredulously. What had she been thinking? Tom was. she laughed softly, suddenly feeling drowsy, wanting to ask questions but needing sleep more. Tom. He wasn't who she wanted.  
  
*************************  
  
Seth drummed his fingers along the kitchen counter. He was restless. He halfhearted flipped through the pages of his book, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd left Summer less than four hours ago, and he had to restrain himself from returning to the hospital. The nurses had informed him that she had to sleep - that he should go home and rest himself. He turned the page of his book, his eyes skittering across the text.  
  
"In the early days after his return from Moscow, whenever Levin shuddered and grew red, remembering the disgrace of his rejection, he said to himself: "This was just how I used to shudder and blush, thinking myself utterly lost, when I was plucked in physics and did not get my remove; and how I thought myself utterly ruined after I had mismanaged that affair of my sister's that was entrusted to me. And yet, now that years have passed, I recall it and wonder that it could distress me so much. It will be the same thing too with this trouble. Time will go by and I shall not mind about this either." But three months had passed and he had not left off minding about it; and it was as painful for him to think of it as it had been those first days."  
  
Seth leaned back on his stool. The memory slipped over him as he recalled falling backwards in biology class. Summer had leapt out of her seat to kneel beside him, and if he just closed his eyes, he could see her dark eyes beckoning, two pools of deep water. He could almost feel her hand on his skin, that familiar, still-startling electricity.  
  
Seth's eyes sprang open when he felt the chair tipping backwards, but this time, he managed to jump away from the stool and land on his feet.  
  
He noticed Ryan at the doorway, looking at him incredulously.  
  
"And scene!" Seth did a little bow as Ryan raised his eyebrows.  
  
Seth stood up straight and picked up the stool, swinging his legs over the top to sit down again.  
  
"How's Summer?" Ryan spoke abruptly. He looked at Seth pointedly, knowing that something had happened between the two. Seth wasn't very good at keeping his feelings concealed.  
  
"She's fine." A smile broke out across Seth's face and cheeks blossomed with a rosy pink color.  
  
Ryan lifted his eyebrows.  
  
"Ok - Ryan, it was awesome. Well, I mean, it's not awesome that she's sick, but last night, when I was with her, we were in her hospital room and she just looked at me, and let me hold her, and I don't know, I could just feel it, that everything was going to turn out how I'd been hoping."  
  
Ryan slowly shook his head and patted Seth on the back. "Good luck, bro." He reached into his pocket to pull out his ringing cell phone.  
  
"Hey hon." Now it was Seth's turn to raise his eyebrows at Ryan. It always surprised him to listen to Ryan speak with Marissa - his voice got so much softer. Maybe I sound different around Summer, he mused.  
  
Seth looked over at Ryan curiously as Ryan began to speak more quickly. "Honey, Marissa, slow down." Ryan's eyes flickered up to meet Seth's. "I'm sure she's fine, she's probably just getting a test-"  
  
Seth stood up. It was about Summer. He could feel it.  
  
"Ok, ok, calm down, we're coming." Ryan snapped his cell phone shut as Seth grabbed the car keys, already pulling his arms through his jacket as he rushed out to the driveway.  
  
********************  
  
Marissa was frantically pacing in front of the nurse's station when Ryan and Seth burst through the doors. She moved towards them, speaking with quick breaths.  
  
"They moved her - her dad called and had her transported - she's in Napa Valley - there's a clinic - I don't know why." Marissa took in a ragged breath and leaned onto Ryan. "I'm the worst friend; I should have been there."  
  
Ryan smoothed her hair and watched Seth with concern. The tall dark-haired boy walked unevenly down the hallway, disappearing into Summer's room.  
  
Seth leaned against the doorframe. The tulips were gone - had they been cleaned up by overzealous nurses? He wondered. A few petals lay on the floor of the room like markers. He picked one up and ran it over his fingertips, the softness light against his skin. He surveyed the room again, looking for any sort of note, a letter, a message, any clue that could give him hope that she was still there with him.  
  
But the room was quiet and still - and he felt more alone than ever.  
  
********************  
  
Seth lay curled on his bed, trying to find any sort of clue in the previously accurate wisdom of Anna Karenina. He kept seeing Summer's face - god, he was such an idiot. He'd ruined any chances they might have had together. Why hadn't he stayed at the hospital? Why? Why? Why? He berated himself, flipping through the text.  
  
He had known that Ryan had only been trying to be nice when they'd spoken earlier, but he still felt angry. How could Ryan even think of suggesting that he give Anna another chance? It wouldn't be fair to her to lead her on again. Seth shook his head. It had to be Summer. There was never a place for anyone else.  
  
He flipped open the text and let his eyes fall upon a patch of words.  
  
"The place was taken, and whenever he tried to imagine any of the girls he knew in that place, he felt that it was utterly impossible. Moreover, the recollection of the rejection and the part he had played in the affair tortured him with shame. However often he told himself that he was in no wise to blame in it, that recollection, like other humiliating reminiscences of a similar kind, made him twinge and blush. There had been in his past, as in every man's, actions, recognized by him as bad, for which his conscience ought to have tormented him; but the memory of these evil actions was far from causing him so much suffering as those trivial but humiliating reminiscences. These wounds never healed."  
  
Seth leaned back on his bed. He sighed. He'd been through a lot for Summer - they'd both been through a lot together. He couldn't explain it to Ryan, but ever since they'd talked by the pool at his grandfather's birthday party, it was like they were both readied themselves for the possibility of a future together. To the outside world, both had a kind of cocky self-confidence, when they each actually shared a wealth of insecurities. Seth sat up. They'd made it so far to be together - what sickness could stop true love?  
  
The sight of the book beside him somehow reassured him, as if she were there, living the story along with him.  
  
"In the morning the sun rose brilliant and quickly wore away the thin layer of ice that covered the water, and all the warm air was quivering with the steam that rose up from the quickened earth. The old grass looked greener, and the young grass thrust up its tiny blades; the buds of the guelder-rose and of the currant and the sticky birch-buds were swollen with sap, and an exploring bee was humming about the golden blossoms that studded the willow. Larks trilled unseen above the velvety green fields and the ice- covered stubble-land; peewits wailed over the low lands and marshes flooded by the pools; cranes and wild geese flew high across the sky uttering their spring calls. The cattle, bald in patches where the new hair had not grown yet, lowed in the pastures; the bowlegged lambs frisked round their bleating mothers. Nimble children ran about the drying paths, covered with the prints of bare feet. There was a merry chatter of peasant women over their linen at the pond, and the ring of axes in the yard, where the peasants were repairing ploughs and harrows. The real spring had come." 


	11. The New Leaf

"I've never seen anyone more determined to get better," Dr. Davis mused as she took Summer's blood pressure. "And I must say, it appears that your eagerness to be healthy has helped to make you healthy again."  
  
"Good." Summer shook her head and smiled at the doctor. "No offense, but I'm looking forward to getting out of here."  
  
"Summer, we've discussed this." The older woman shook her head. "Your father just wanted you to get the best medical care available."  
  
"I know, I know, scarlet fever can have lasting implications on the heart, you guys are the best for preventing heart damage, etc." Summer tapped her feet against the floor. "So, what are you going to write on my chart?"  
  
Dr. Davis smiled. "We're releasing you today. Your father is sending a car to pick you up – he's in Switzerland, but he'll be home on Saturday."  
  
"He's coming home tomorrow?" Summer bit her lip. "I thought he couldn't leave Europe until all the mergers were finalized."  
  
"Apparently he's pushed himself to finish early." Dr. Davis stood and moved towards the door. "Guess that's something that the whole Roberts family has in common!" She chuckled as she walked out of Summer's room.  
  
Thank god, Summer thought, falling back onto her bed. The Napa Valley Heart Clinic was gorgeous, but she had to get home. Six days had been more than enough. In order to promote total healing, the clinic didn't provide television, internet or telephone access to patients, so she'd been thinking about everything she'd been missing incessantly.  
  
Especially Seth Cohen. Now that she was mere hours from returning home, she was getting nervous. It didn't help that with all the tests at the clinic, she'd become acute aware of the beating rhythm of her heart. She knew what it was trying to say, and she knew what she had to do. It wasn't just about Seth – she'd just been so scared for so long. She'd been cruel to so many people, and she had to prove to them that she'd changed. And she wanted to prove it to them – and to herself.  
  
********************  
  
When the car swung onto the Seth's street, Summer felt her heartbeat pick up. She took a deep breath and whispered to herself. Ok, calm down, you can do this. So much of what she had hoped for was so close. Her father would be home soon, and Dr. Davis had told her that he was planning on staying home for some time. She knew that her friends had been forbidden to contact her while she was at the clinic, that they weren't expecting her to be back so soon. But she couldn't wait any longer.  
  
In the backseat of the car, she pulled out the heavy text of Anna Karenina. She'd finished the first book while she had been at the clinic, and now she found a comfort in the familiar passages.  
  
"Peace was made. But with her father's coming all the world in which she had been living was transformed for Kitty. She did not give up everything she had learned, but she became aware that she had deceived herself in supposing she could be what she wanted to be. Her eyes were, it seemed, opened; she felt all the difficulty of maintaining herself without hypocrisy and self-conceit on the pinnacle to which she had wished to mount. Moreover, she became aware of all the dreariness of the world of sorrow, of sick and dying people, in which she had been living. Kitty returned home to Russia cured. She was not so gay and thoughtless as before; she was serene."  
  
Summer smoothed her hair as the car rolled to a stop. The driver came around to open the door for her.  
  
"Shall I wait here, Ms. Roberts?"  
  
Summer smiled. "Thanks Charlie. Do you think you could take my baggage home? I might be here for awhile."  
  
"Of course, ma'am."  
  
The car pulled back down the driveway and Summer anxiously pulled on the skirt of her dress. She knocked gently on the Cohen's door. No answer. She rapped a bit harder, and then she used the whole weight of her fist to knock.  
  
The door swung open quickly. Ryan.  
  
Summer tried to regain her composure. "Chi- um, Ryan, hi." She swallowed. "Is Seth here?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay." Summer stared at the blond boy. "Are you going to tell me where he is?"  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, Summer, I forgot, I'm Chino Boy, at your service." Ryan leaned against the doorframe, a tired smirk on his face.  
  
"Chi- Ryan. Ryan." Summer looked down for a moment, and then took a breath before meeting his eyes. "I know you're just trying to watch out for Seth, to make sure that he doesn't get hurt."  
  
"You're right." Right shrugged his shoulders and looked at her expectantly.  
  
Summer tapped her toe against the ground. She was quiet for a moment, and then the words flooded out of her.  
  
"Look, Ryan, I know I've been mean to you, and I'm sorry. But right now, I need you to tell me where I can find Seth, because I have to see him. I've been waiting a long time and-"  
  
"So has he."  
  
Summer's breath caught. "I know." She took a step forward. "Ryan, please. I'm trying to start over."  
  
Ryan looked at her, as if considering her for the first time. His voice was quiet. "I know what you mean." He tilted his head to one side, and then walked out of the house to an old bicycle. "Come on."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Summer looked down at her outfit. "Despite my many talents, I can't ride a bicycle in a dress and heels."  
  
"That skirt is long enough – for once." Ryan smiled. "Hop on the handlebars – you said it was urgent, and Seth took the car. We're going down to the pier."  
  
Summer bit down on her lower lip. "Okay!" She gingerly pulled herself up onto the bicycle.  
  
"Hold on!" Ryan warned, as the two set off down the rolling street to find the boy who'd changed both their lives.  
  
********************  
  
Seth leaned against the corner of the Snack Shack. Pathetic, he told himself. You're just sitting here, reading an old Russian novel. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then flipped open the text.  
  
"Rousing himself, Levin got up from the haycock, and looking at the stars, he saw that the night was over. "Well, what am I going to do? How am I to set about it?" he said to himself, trying to express to himself all the thoughts and feelings he had passed through in that brief night. All the thoughts and feelings he had passed through fell into three separate trains of thought. One was the renunciation of his old life, of his utterly useless education. This renunciation gave him satisfaction, and was easy and simple. Another series of thoughts and mental images related to the life he longed to live now. The simplicity, the purity, the sanity of this life he felt clearly, and he was convinced he would find in it the content, the peace, and the dignity, of the lack of which he was so miserably conscious. But a third series of ideas turned upon the question how to effect this transition from the old life to the new. And there nothing took clear shape for him."  
  
Maybe I can just move on, Seth thought. He lied to himself – yes, that's it, stop the drama, go back to being the old Seth, loner Seth, hanging out with comic book characters and video games. He sighed and leaned back against the corner of the Shack Shack. He was hunched over in one corner, invisible to the outside world. I can see them, but they can't see me, he observed with a gruff laugh. Just like my life.  
  
"A slight wind arose, and the sky looked gray and sullen. The gloomy moment had come that usually precedes the dawn, the full triumph of light over darkness. Shrinking from the cold, Levin walked rapidly, looking at the ground. "What's that? Someone coming," he thought, catching the tinkle of bells, and lifting his head. Forty paces from him a carriage with four horses harnessed abreast was driving towards him along the grassy road on which he was walking. The shaft-horses were tilted against the shafts by the ruts, but the dexterous driver sitting on the box held the shaft over the ruts, so that the wheels ran on the smooth part of the road. This was all Levin noticed, and without wondering who it could be, he gazed absently at the coach."  
  
Seth watched as a bicycle drew nearer, his eye immediately drawn to a young woman perched carefully on the handlebars.  
  
"In the coach was an old lady dozing in one corner, and at the window, evidently only just awake, sat a young girl holding in both hands the ribbons of a white cap. With a face full of light and thought, full of a subtle, complex inner life, that was remote from Levin, she was gazing beyond him at the glow of the sunrise. At the very instant when this apparition was vanishing, the truthful eyes glanced at him. She recognized him, and her face lighted up with wondering delight. He could not be mistaken. There were no other eyes like those in the world. There was only one creature in the world that could concentrate for him all the brightness and meaning of life. It was she. It was Kitty."  
  
Summer's eyes paused on him for a moment, as if she saw him, and he shrank back into the wall of the building. He saw her in his mind's eye as if observing what had just happened in slow motion. Her hair was softly tousled from the salty ocean air, her dress clung to her, pushed around her figure by the breeze. And in that moment he saw her face, he knew that she was searching, searching too, and they were looking for the very same thing. But the bicycle kept going, with Summer seeing Seth everywhere, unsure which was the dream and which was the reality.  
  
"There only, in the carriage that had crossed over to the other side of the road, and was rapidly disappearing, there only could he find the solution of the riddle of his life, which had weighed so agonizingly upon him of late. She did not look out again. The sound of the carriage-springs was no longer audible, the bells could scarcely be heard. The barking of dogs showed the carriage had reached the village, and all that was left was the empty fields all round, the village in front, and he himself isolated and apart from it all, wandering lonely along the deserted highroad. He glanced at the sky, expecting to find there the cloud shell he had been admiring and taking as the symbol of the ideas and feelings of that night. There was nothing in the sky in the least like a shell. There, in the remote heights above, a mysterious change had been accomplished. There was no trace of shell, and there was stretched over fully half the sky an even cover of tiny and ever tinier cloudlets. The sky had grown blue and bright; and with the same softness, but with the same remoteness, it met his questioning gaze. 'No,' he said to himself, 'however good that life of simplicity and toil may be, I cannot go back to it. I love HER.'"  
  
********************  
  
"Hey." Seth closed the door to the poolhouse behind him and flopped down on Ryan's bed.  
  
"Where the hell have you been, man?" Ryan snapped. "Summer and I have been out looking for you all day."  
  
"I saw you."  
  
"What?!?" Ryan spoke loudly. He quieted himself and took a seat next to Seth. "Why didn't you stop us?"  
  
"Because!" Seth pulled a pillow over his face. "All I could think about when I saw her is how-" His voice softened. "How much I love her."  
  
The two looked at each other. Ryan read the fear off Seth's face – he was scared, Ryan realized. There was nothing stopping him now.  
  
"Boys?" Kirsten pushed open the door to the poolhouse. "I just got a call from Summer's dad – first one of those in a long time. Anyhow, he's having a party for her tomorrow night to celebrate her homecoming, and we'll all be going. It'll be fun!" She closed the door behind her, as Sandy complained in the background.  
  
"This is it, Seth." Ryan looked solemn. "Tomorrow night. It's then or never."  
  
Seth nodded slowly. "I know." 


	12. The Conclusion

A/N: Here it is, the long-awaited finale, along with one of my favorite scenes in Anna Karenina. The passages are interspersed with text, and I hope that you enjoy them. Please review, I love getting feedback from readers! Thanks!  
  
********************  
  
Summer sat in front of her vanity, reminding herself to breathe. Her father had insisted on spending the day with her, something that would normally have been a dream come true. But right now, all she could think about was another dream.  
  
She knew that the Cohen's would be at the party tonight – her father had planned a grand formal party for her – gourmet catering, decorations, an orchestra, dancing – everything a girl could dream about. But all she wanted was Seth.  
  
She made her way downstairs and was greeted by a large round of applause as she traversed down the sweeping curved staircase. Her upbringing allowed her to keep a gracious smile on her face as her eyes searched the crowd. He wasn't there. And then the noise of the party fell away and she heard the front doors swing open as he stepped inside.  
  
"Kitty was looking at the door, calling up all her energies to keep her from blushing at the entrance of Konstantin Levin."  
  
Seth stepped into the house and fidgeted with the bottom of his jacket.  
  
"He had not seen Kitty since that memorable evening when he met Vronsky, not counting, that is, the moment when he had had a glimpse of her on the highroad. He had known at the bottom of his heart that he would see her here today. But to keep his thoughts free, he had tried to persuade himself that he did not know it. Now when he heard that she was here, he was suddenly conscious of such delight, and at the same time of such dread, that his breath failed him and he could not utter what he wanted to say. 'What is she like, what is she like? Like what she used to be, or like what she was in the carriage? What if Darya Alexandrovna told the truth? Why shouldn't it be the truth?' he thought and with a desperately determined step he walked into the drawing room and beheld her."  
  
Summer kept walking with slow, measured steps down the stairs. Her eyes met Seth's and she held his glance, feeling calm and sure as she gracefully descended. She saw him as though looking at him for the first time, as if realizing completely that he was the one, that this was right, that it was meant to be.  
  
Seth's breath caught in his throat when he saw her. Summer had always been beautiful, but now there was a new dimension to her loveliness. Her skin was a glowing porcelain, set off by the deep maroon gown that skimmed her curves. When her eyes met his, she didn't look away.  
  
"She was not the same as she used to be, nor was she as she had been in the carriage; she was quite different. She was scared, shy, shame-faced, and still more charming from it. She saw him the very instant he walked into the room. She had been expecting him. She was delighted, and so confused at her own delight that there was a moment, the moment when he glanced again at her, when she, and he, thought she would break down and would begin to cry. She crimsoned, turned white, crimsoned again, and grew faint, waiting with quivering lips for him to come to her. He went up to her, bowed, and held out his hand without speaking."  
  
Seth's hand folded over her small palm and she looked up at him. Even now, standing close together, the small distance between them seemed unbearable. Summer looked up at him and her lips parted slightly.  
  
"Except for the slight quiver of her lips and the moisture in her eyes that made them brighter, her smile was almost calm as she said: 'How long it is since we've seen each other!' and with desperate determination she pressed his hand with her cold hand. 'You've not seen me, but I've seen you,' said Levin, with a radiant smile of happiness. 'I saw you when you were driving from the railway station to Ergushovo.' 'When?" she asked, wondering.'"  
  
"Seth," she whispered his name and her throat trembled. "I've been missing you for such a long time."  
  
He didn't miss the dual meaning of her words.  
  
"I saw you." Seth blurted out the words. "On the beach, with Ryan. You were on his bicycle, and you looked so-" He searched for the word as she maintained his gaze.  
  
He whispered the word. "Free." His fingers traced circles on her palm. "Summer, I-"  
  
"Summer!" Mr. Roberts burst into the conversation. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's a man here to see you; he says that it's urgent."  
  
Summer glanced at Seth and he nodded quickly. She stepped away, her eyes speaking for her.  
  
"She and Levin had a conversation of their own, yet not a conversation, but some sort of mysterious communication, which brought them every moment nearer, and stirred in both a sense of glad terror before the unknown into which they were entering. At first Levin, in answer to Kitty's question how he could have seen her last year in the carriage, told her how he had been coming home from the mowing along the highroad and had met her. 'It was very, very early in the morning. You were probably only just awake. Your mother was asleep in the corner. It was an exquisite morning. I was walking along wondering who it could be in a four-in-hand? It was a splendid set of four horses with bells, and in a second you flashed by, and I saw you at the window—you were sitting like this, holding the strings of your cap in both hands, and thinking awfully deeply about something,' he said, smiling. 'How I should like to know what you were thinking about then! Something important?' 'Wasn't I dreadfully untidy?' she wondered, but seeing the smile of ecstasy these reminiscences called up, she felt that the impression she had made had been very good. She blushed and laughed with delight; 'Really I don't remember.'"  
  
As her father led her across the room, Summer glanced over her shoulder at Seth. He was watching her, an unguarded smile across his face and she beamed a grin back at him. At the same moment they turned solemn, nervous, knowing that tonight was the night, aware of the gravity of the next hours.  
  
"Summer, it's lovely to meet you." A tall man extended his hand to Summer and she shook his hand politely. "I'm Martin Feinberg. My father tells me that you've spent quite a good deal of time together."  
  
"Yes!" Summer smiled. "He's a wonderful man – my favorite."  
  
"He sends his best wishes for your health," the younger Mr. Feinberg said, "And he asked me to give you this." He handed Summer a gift-wrapped package. "He says that you must open it in your version of the drawing room, if you know what that means."  
  
Summer looked down at the present and slowly nodded her head. "Yes." She gave him a small smile. "Thank you."  
  
Summer excused herself and made her way through the crowd. Seth was no longer near the staircase and she climbed the stairs with a new sense of urgency. Some external force was pushing her forward, and she felt sure, confident, guided by a new sense of gravity. Another smile broke across her face as she gather her gown in her hands, moving down the long hallway towards the open French doors at the end of the corridor. She could sense him there, and for the first time in her life, she felt at home in her house.  
  
********************  
  
Seth leaned out on the edge of the balcony. The stone was covered with a thick white canvas that draped down over the side of the house, one of many custom-made 'Welcome Home' banners that adorned the Roberts mansion. He felt the fine ridges of fabric underneath his fingers and closed his eyes.  
  
"He knew now the one thing of importance; and that one thing was at first there, in the drawing room, and then began moving across and came to a standstill at the door. Without turning round he felt the eyes fixed on him, and the smile, and he could not help turning round."  
  
Summer was framed in the opening as though she were a portrait come to life, stepping out of the frame to greet her viewers. She held a silver- wrapped rectangle in one hand. She walked towards him wordlessly, her skin luminescent in the moonlight.  
  
"I was hoping you could help me." She spoke softly. "Mr. Feinberg sent this present over for me, but I have a feeling that it's for you as well." She smoothed her skirt nervously. "He told you about the tulips, didn't he?"  
  
Seth nodded. "I know that they're your favorites, remember in second grade, when those slam books were the big thing, and all the other girls wrote that they liked roses the best and you wrote that your favorite flowers were tulips."  
  
Summer's mouth dropped slightly. "I can't believe that you remember that."  
  
Seth stammered. "So, what is that, anyway?" He gestured towards the package.  
  
Summer sidled up next to him and set the present on the wide balcony railing, carefully sliding the wrapping off the gift.  
  
"Oh!" She gasped.  
  
It was a first edition of Anna Karenina, bound with deep red leather and burnished gold. The title was embossed on the front in rolling black letters.  
  
"It's so beautiful," Summer marveled, tracing the lettering with her fingers.  
  
"Yes." Seth agreed. Summer raised her chin to find him watching her, and goosebumps spread across her bare arms.  
  
Summer looked back down at the book and an idea shone down on her. She and Seth were similar in one surprising way – despite all their verbal acrobatics, neither of them were particularly adapt at expressing the delicate emotions that reverberated between them.  
  
"Do you have a pen?" Summer asked.  
  
"Um, yeah." Seth's brow furrowed in confusion. "Here." He handed her a blue felt tip.  
  
Summer leaned over railing and began drawing circles across the heavy canvas drapery. Seth watched her carefully as she looked up. "Do you remember?" she asked hopefully.  
  
"Kitty, going up to a card table, sat down, and, taking up the chalk, began drawing diverging circles over the new green cloth. A silence followed. She was still drawing with the chalk on the table. Her eyes were shining with a soft light. Under the influence of her mood he felt in all his being a continually growing tension of happiness. 'Ah! I've scribbled all over the table!' she said, and laying down the chalk, she made a movement as though to get up. 'What! shall I be left alone—without her?' he thought with horror, and he took the chalk."  
  
The realization swept over Seth like a warm ocean wave. He stepped behind Summer and folded his arms around her, gently closing his hand over her own. She slipped the pen into his hand and stayed still, folded up in his embrace as he studied the canvas.  
  
"'Wait a minute,' he said, sitting down to the table. 'I've long wanted to ask you one thing.' He looked straight into her caressing, though frightened eyes. 'Please, ask it.' 'Here,' he said; and he wrote the initial letters, w, y, t, m, i, c, n, b, d, t, m, n, o, t. These letters meant, 'When you told me it could never be, did that mean never, or then?' There seemed no likelihood that she could make out this complicated sentence; but he looked at her as though his life depended on her understanding the words. She glanced at him seriously, then leaned her puckered brow on her hands and began to read. Once or twice she stole a look at him, as though asking him, 'Is it what I think?' 'I understand,' she said, flushing a little. 'What is this word?' he said, pointing to the n that stood for never. 'It means NEVER,' she said; 'but that's not true!' He quickly rubbed out what he had written, gave her the chalk, and stood up. She wrote, t, i, c, n, a, d. He was suddenly radiant: he had understood.  
  
Summer looked up at Seth. His chest was pressed against her bare shoulder and she could feel his heart beat, matching an allegro rhythm with her own.  
  
"It meant, 'Then I could not answer differently.' He glanced at her questioningly, timidly. 'Only then?' 'Yes,' her smile answered. 'And n...and now?' he asked. 'Well, read this. I'll tell you what I should like—should like so much!' she wrote the initial letters, i, y, c, f, a, f, w, h. This meant, 'If you could forget and forgive what happened.' He snatched the chalk with nervous, trembling fingers, and breaking it, wrote the initial letters of the following phrase, 'I have nothing to forget and to forgive; I have never ceased to love you.' She glanced at him with a smile that did not waver. 'I understand,' she said in a whisper. He sat down and wrote a long phrase. She understood it all, and without asking him, 'Is it this?' took the chalk and at once answered. For a long while he could not understand what she had written, and often looked into her eyes. He was stupefied with happiness. He could not supply the word she had meant; but in her charming eyes, beaming with happiness, he saw all he needed to know. And he wrote three letters." Seth carefully laid the pen down at stepped away from the canvas. Summer reaches for the pen, moving quickly, and she scrawled her response deep into the fabric, inking it forever with her answer.  
  
"But he had hardly finished writing when she read them over her arm, and herself finished and wrote the answer, 'Yes.'"  
  
Summer turned to face him and he scooped her up into his arms, spinning her around the balcony. He slowed to a stop and she slid down his body, feeling him touch her as a warmth spread through her. Seth smiled nervously as he bent his head down, hovering for a moment just over her lips before he kissed her.  
  
She had thought that all the kisses with Seth before were wonderful, and this one had the same magic from before, but this time it was even more spectacular. She kissed him with a newfound abandon, giving in to the lovely sensation, feeling so happy to be with him, and proud of herself for finally opening up.  
  
His hands slid across the slippery satin of her dress and he lifted her up again so that her eyes were level with his. "Summer," he breathed, and his voice cracked a little as he spoke. "It's always been you."  
  
She smiled and brought his lips to hers, sealing the space between them with a promise. His lips were soft and he kissed her slowly, deeply as his fingers gently brushed her face and her hands toyed with his dark curls. They pulled away slightly to smile at each other.  
  
"I love you." Summer's voice tremored as her eyes filled with emotion. Seth's eyes crinkled with a smile.  
  
"You love me?" His eyes threatened to overflow with tears.  
  
Summer nodded, looking down for a moment. She took a breath and said it again. "I love you."  
  
Seth smiled broadly. "Well worth the wait," he teased. He picked her up and swing her around again as she let out a laugh. He dipped her back and kissed her gently.  
  
"I love you, Summer Roberts."  
  
And they held each other on the balcony, dancing and kissing under the soft moonlight as Anna Karenina lay on the railing aside a series of carefully etched letters.  
  
A new chapter had begun.  
  
The end. 


End file.
